In Another Life XII
by Christine M. Greenleaf
Summary: Fortunately for everyone who enjoys this series, I can't stop writing them :-) This time, Jack Napier is a clown at Haly's Circus, and a rival of the Flying Graysons. When the circus arrives in Gotham City, Jack meets Dr. Harleen Quinzel, and his destiny.
1. Chapter 1

**In Another Life XII**

Jack Napier glared at the clown face staring back at him in the mirror, and wondered how it had come to this.

He sighed, picking up a tin of greasepaint and smearing more white onto his face. Then he applied the bright red lipstick to his oversized smile, beneath which lay his actual grimace of disappointment as to how his life had turned out.

Not so long ago, he had been an up and coming criminal, a hitman whose accuracy and ruthlessness would have made any mob boss lucky to have him. But he had crossed the wrong guy. A few months ago, during a bank heist, he had gotten a little too trigger happy and ended up killing a few civilians. When the gang returned to the hideout, his boss had cussed him out for drawing unnecessary heat onto them, Jack had responded with a few choice words of his own, and frankly was lucky to get out of the situation alive. Bullets were exchanged, and Jack eventually fled out onto the streets of Gotham City, suddenly unemployed and wanted by the mob.

So he had done what many a man before him had done – he had left Gotham and adopted a disguise. A disguise that would hide his identity, and earn him a little money. But he had to admit, it was still humiliating for a guy like him to be a clown every night.

There was a knock on the door to his trailer. "J, ten minutes!"

"Yeah, yeah," muttered Jack. "Be right there."

But sadly, aside from killing people, this was the only employable skill he had, he thought with a sigh, turning away from the mirror and picking up his juggling pins. As a boy, he had learned how to juggle and used to play at improvising slapstick. He had always managed to make people laugh. So the only job he considered himself qualified for, aside from hitman, was a circus clown. Which was pretty pathetic, but at least it was a job, and at least he was alive. But honestly, that was pretty much all he could say in terms of positives for his life at the moment.

He left his trailer and crossed the circus camp toward the big top, set up in the center. It was full of blazing lights and crowds of people, oohing and ahhing at the feats of daring being performed inside. As he entered the backstage area, he heard Mr. Haly, the ringmaster, announcing, "And now for a real treat, ladies and gentlemen, a man who laughs in the face of danger, the one and only Leo the Lion Tamer!"

"Hurry up, Dick, we're on next!" hissed a voice, as a man suddenly shoved past Jack, pulling a child behind him. "Let's get your harness on."

"John, can you help me with mine?" asked a woman, following them.

"In a second, Mary, I'm just helping Dick!" snapped the man.

The woman glared at him, and then noticed Jack. She beamed. "J, can you be a dear and help me put my harness on?" she asked him.

"Uh…sure," said Jack.

"It just kinda goes around the waist here," said the woman, taking his hands and sliding them onto the harness, and then around her waist. "The buckle's in the back there, and don't be afraid to pull it tight," she said with a grin, as she pulled herself into his arms, pushing his hands down toward her bottom.

"I'll do it," snapped the man, shoving Jack away from the woman suddenly. He buckled her in and then snapped, "Take Dick up – I'll be with you in a second."

The woman shrugged, taking the child's hand, and glanced back to grin at Jack, winking at him. Jack was suddenly seized by the man, who slammed him back into the tent pole.

"Listen, you pathetic clown, stay the hell away from my wife!" he hissed.

"Hey, she came on to me!" snapped Jack. "I'm sorry if you ain't man enough for her, leotard boy!"

The man raised his fist to hit Jack, but was pulled away by another circus performer who said, "John, you're on!"

"This ain't over, J!" shouted the man, over the thunderous applause of the audience. "You'd better watch your back!"

Jack spat on the ground. "Hope your harness breaks," he muttered, practicing his juggling as he watched Mr. Haly announce the next act.

"And now, ladies and gentlemen, the jewel in our circus's crown – not one, not two, but three acrobats, and they're all one family! Ladies and gentlemen, the Flying Graysons!"

There was wild cheering from the audience as the lights came up on the trapeze to reveal the man, woman, and child from earlier, all smiles as they performed their acrobat routine. Unfortunately for Jack, the man's harness didn't break, which he supposed was good in the long run, or he'd have had to do more work. They always sent in the clowns when a circus act turned tragic.

Jack was on the moment the act finished, with the announcement, "And now, ladies and gentlemen, prepare to laugh yourselves silly as Haly's Circus presents the King of Comedy, the Joker!"

That was the only name he had given the circus when he had joined – the stage name he had thought up for himself. It would be stupid for a wanted man in hiding to give his real name, and most of the folks around the circus either called him J or Joker.

Tonight the Joker performed a juggling routine, followed by some improvised comedy with a seltzer bottle, and lastly a slapstick act where his pants dropped and he kept tripping over them. What a way to earn a living, he thought grimly behind the smile, as the audience cheered. Still, as least they were laughing.

His routine over, he returned to his trailer to wait until the curtain call at the end. He was fixing the makeup that had run under the heat of the lights when there was a knock on his trailer door.

"Come in," he called.

The woman from earlier entered. "J, I just wanted to apologize for John earlier," she said. "He's been in a bad mood all day, and he had no right to take it out on you."

"Forget about it," said Jack, shrugging. "I already have."

"I don't like him acting that way in front of Dick," she said. "It sets a bad example for a kid."

"Well, he'd probably do worse if he knew what was really going on between us," said Jack, casually.

The woman grinned. "He could try," she agreed, approaching him. "But he really ain't that much of a man compared to you."

"I kinda suspected that," said Jack, nodding. "The leotard's a dead giveaway. Also, never trust a man in tights."

"I guess it was wrong of me to blatantly flirt with you like that, but I just couldn't help it," she continued. "You know what you do to me. And I know John's gonna figure out what's going on if I keep being that obvious, but when he acts like that, I almost want him to."

"You're saying you want us to get caught?" he asked, turning to look at her.

"I'm just saying the thought kinda turns me on," she said, sliding her arms around his neck. "It's what bad things do to me. It's what bad people do to me, as you well know."

She kissed him deeply, and he pulled her into his arms. She straddled his lap, unbuttoning his shirt. "You're gonna get my makeup all over you, and it's gonna be obvious at the curtain call," he murmured, drawing away and glancing at the red lipstick and white paint smeared across her face.

"Then you'd better be quick, so I have time to clean up," she whispered, grinning as she bit down on his lip. "But if you think I can see you drop your pants for an audience, and not want you to do that for me, you're crazy."

He kissed her, pulling her leotard down as she unbuckled his pants…

Well, there were perks to the nightly humiliation, he thought, as he pulled his pants back up and watched Mary Grayson hurrying back to her trailer. After all, everybody loved a clown. And Jack Napier had to admit, he made a damn good one.


	2. Chapter 2

The next morning, Jack left his trailer and headed outside, where the other circus performers were practicing their routines in the early morning light. Those who weren't practicing were having breakfast around the campfire, talking and laughing, both of which immediately stopped when they noticed Jack approaching.

Jack said nothing, reaching for the ladle and pouring himself out a bowl of oatmeal. Circus folk were generally a tight knit group, but ever since he arrived, Jack had been treated as an outsider. Which was fine by him - he wasn't looking for friends. Although he couldn't help but think that their hostility toward him might have something to do with Mary Grayson's friendliness toward him. Not that anyone knew how far that friendliness had gone, but no family appreciated outsiders coming in and shaking things up.

Mary was sitting across from him with her husband and son, both of whom regarded Jack with an expression of loathing. But she smiled, maintaining her usual friendliness. "Morning, J," she said.

"Morning, Mary," he said.

"Dick, can you say good morning to Mr. Joker?" said Mary to her son.

"I don't want to," muttered Dick Grayson, staring down at his breakfast.

"Now Dick, your father and I raised you to be a polite young man with good manners," said Mary. "And wishing Mr. Joker a good morning is exactly what a polite young man with good manners should do."

"I don't want to," repeated Dick.

"Why not, honey?" asked his mother.

"I don't like him," muttered Dick, glaring up at Jack.

"And why is that, Dick?" asked Mary. "You know you shouldn't dislike people for no good reason. So what reason do you have for disliking Mr. Joker?"

Dick shrugged. "Daddy doesn't like him either," he retorted.

"Well, that's no excuse," retorted Mary. "Just because your father dislikes someone doesn't mean you have to."

"The boy's got good taste at least," muttered John. "Unlike his mother."

"Well, no arguments here – I married you, after all," retorted Mary, coldly.

"I should just…get going," said Jack, standing up so he could leave this increasingly awkward situation.

"No, J, I won't have you driven away because of my family being impolite," snapped Mary. "Now Dick, I want a straight answer from you. Why don't you like Mr. Joker?"

"He's a bad man," snapped Dick.

"Why do you think that?" asked Mary.

"I just…feel it," retorted Dick. "He's a bad man. Something doesn't feel right about him."

"Dick, you can't live your life being controlled by irrational feelings," said his mother. "I want you to apologize to Mr. Joker for calling him a bad man."

"I won't, because it's the truth!" snapped Dick. "I won't apologize for telling the truth!"

"Everything all right over here?" asked Mr. Haly, the leader of the circus, coming over to them.

"Everything's fine, Mr. Haly," said Jack.

"Good," commented Mr. Haly. "I rarely have trouble in my little family, J, but whenever I do, you always seem to be at the center of it. Why is that?"

Jack shrugged. "Never really been a family kinda guy, I guess. At least, kids don't seem to like me," he said, looking at Dick.

"You'll have to forgive him, J – he clearly woke up on the wrong side of the bed this morning," said Mary, glaring at her son.

"Ok, listen up, everyone," said Mr. Haly, beckoning everyone over to the fire. "We're only gonna be performing in Metropolis until the end of the week, and then we're moving on to Gotham City."

Jack had put a spoonful of oatmeal in his mouth, which he suddenly spat out in shock. "Gotham City?" he repeated.

"Yes, J, Gotham City," repeated Mr. Haly. "Maybe you've heard of it? One of the largest cities in America…"

"Yeah, I'm…from Gotham City," said Jack, slowly. "And I ain't looking to go back anytime soon."

"Well, it's not really up to you, is it?" asked Mr. Haly. "We always get good crowds in Gotham – I think the people there really need an escape from their otherwise miserable lives in a crime-infested city."

"Yeah, crime-infested," said Jack, nodding. "Would be kinda stupid to go there and risk being on the receiving end of crime ourselves. You know criminals – they're ruthless."

"Actually, I don't know criminals, J," retorted Mr. Haly. "I don't think I've ever met one, and I certainly don't make a habit of associating with them. Anyway, we've been to Gotham hundreds of times before and never had a problem. So I'll thank you not to call my decisions stupid ever again, unless you're looking to be out of a job. I'll see everyone at five for warm up," he said, heading back toward his trailer.

Jack instantly stood up and stormed back to his own trailer, seething. He was half furious, and half terrified – if he went back to Gotham, there was a chance someone from either his former gang or a rival one would recognize him, and then his life wouldn't be worth a damn. The smart thing to do would be to leave the circus right now, and try and find some work elsewhere. He nodded, resolving to do just that, and he began throwing things into his bag.

"J?" said a voice. He looked up to see Mary standing in the doorway. "What are you doing?"

"I'm leaving," retorted Jack, continuing to pack.

"Why?" she asked. "Because of what Dick said? I promise, he won't speak to you like that again…"

"It's not that," interrupted Jack. "I just can't stay. I can't go back to Gotham."

"Why not?" she asked.

"It's complicated," he said. "You wouldn't understand. But there are people there…who might be looking for me, and I can't give them the opportunity to find me."

"Are you…in trouble with the law?" asked Mary.

"It ain't the law I'm worried about," retorted Jack.

"Well…why don't you tell me, and I'll see if I can help…" began Mary.

"You can't help," retorted Jack. "I just gotta leave. That's all there is to it. I'm sure Mr. Haly can find another clown in Gotham – there are a lotta them there."

"J, wait," she said, taking his hand. "You're really gonna…leave me?" she asked, gazing at him.

"Look, Mary, what we have…it was nice, but it was gonna end eventually anyway," he said. "You got your husband and your kid, and there's no way you were gonna give them up for me, and I wouldn't want you to. It's probably best that it ends now, before it can get too serious, or the guilt sets in…"

She stared at him. "How can you say that?" she whispered. "You think…what we have ain't serious? You think I'm just some…casual fling that you're just gonna toss aside? Don't you care for me at all, J?"

"Baby, I don't want to have this conversation," he said, taking her by the shoulders. "Believe me, it's not you. But I gotta look out for myself. You wouldn't want me to risk my life just to stay here with you, would you?"

"If you loved me, you would," retorted Mary. "Don't you love me, J?"

Jack stared at her. He wasn't the kinda man who had ever really loved anyone – he had always considered himself far too selfish for that. And honestly, he didn't love Mary – she was a very pleasing companion in many ways, but he didn't think about her when she wasn't there, he didn't feel the need to be with her all the time, and he didn't want any kind of future with her unless their relationship was to remain exactly the same – a casual fling.

But you couldn't tell a woman that and expect her to stay in that kinda relationship with you. So he lied.

"Baby, of course I do," he said. "But it's best that I go, for me and for your family…"

"You don't know what things are like with my family," murmured Mary. "John and I…haven't been very happy together in a long time. If you left me now, I…I wouldn't be able to cope. I'd go crazy, I'd be depressed, I think I might die from the crushing despair of my life without you. You're my one source of happiness, J. Please don't take that away from me."

"Mary, there's no other way," retorted Jack, taking his bag. "I'm sorry."

He headed toward the door. "I'll jump," whispered Mary.

"What?" he asked, turning back around.

"If you go…I'll jump," she murmured. "Off that high wire, without a harness, in front of an audience. I'll kill myself, J."

"Don't talk like that…" he began.

"It's the truth," she interrupted. "I'll do it. You don't want me to do that, do you, J? So you'll stay, won't you?"

"Mary…" he began.

"Oh God, J, please stay!" she sobbed, throwing herself into his arms and bursting into tears.

Jack held her, feeling conflicted. On the one hand, he didn't want to drive a woman to suicide. But on the other, he would be risking his own life if he stayed. And self-preservation was one of Jack's strongest instincts. Honestly, what was one more death on his hands? But he wasn't sure he'd like feeling responsible for _this_ woman's death – it took a special kind of callousness to be intimate with someone and then feel nothing if they died, and Jack hadn't reached that point of callousness yet. Besides, she would be leaving behind her husband and child, even if they both were jerks…they didn't deserve that.

And there was always a chance he wouldn't be recognized behind his clown makeup, if he made it extra thick. And what were the chances of criminals going to the circus anyway? It wasn't exactly a popular past-time for the mob. The circus probably wouldn't even be in Gotham that long – a few weeks, a month at most. There were a lot of variables that had to go wrong before Jack had to truly worry about being in danger. As long as he kept to the camp in Gotham, and didn't go out into the streets, he would probably be fine.

Anyway, the more he thought about it, the more foolish the idea of leaving seemed. This was a good, paying gig, and if he quit, Mr. Haly would probably see to it that he wouldn't be employed as a clown again anywhere – all circus folk knew each other. And then he'd be out of a job again, with no more employable skills, starving slowly to death on the streets…depending on the type of mob hit, that was probably preferable.

But mostly, Jack resented having to take the coward's way out, having to run away again. He had hated it when he left Gotham the first time, and he hated it now. His conscience wouldn't let him do it a second time – it was time to stop running and be a man.

Jack sighed. Against his better judgment, he tilted Mary's chin up and wiped her tears away, smiling. "All right, baby, you win," he murmured. "You're lucky I can't resist a crying dame. Just triggers the protective instinct in me."

Mary sobbed in relief, kissing him desperately. "Thank you, J!" she sobbed. "Thank you! Oh God, I can't tell you how much this means to me! You won't regret it, I promise!"

Jack held her, sincerely hoping that he wouldn't.


	3. Chapter 3

It was a cold, miserable, rainy day as Jack looked upon his hometown of Gotham City again. Not that that was unusual – it was pretty much every day in this dump, thought Jack, as he and the other circus folk pitched camp in a park on the outskirts of the city. The rain pelted down, making the mud slippery as they built the tent frame, which took several tries in the inclement weather, and Jack was very glad to return to his trailer to prepare for the show.

Still, at least out here he wasn't likely to be recognized, he reasoned. Most of the criminal activity took place within the city – the only thing out here appeared to be some ugly old Victorian building on a hill overlooking the park. The sign said it was someplace called Arkham Asylum for the Criminally Insane, and while Jack's mob colleagues had probably been crazy, none of them as far as he knew were certified insane. And Jack certainly wasn't afraid of a bunch of lunatics.

The show that night went off without a hitch, and as the days passed and nothing happened, Jack gradually relaxed. He had been silly to worry about being discovered. And in many ways, although Gotham was a dump, it was good to be home.

One afternoon, Jack was in his trailer practicing a new act where he dropped his pants while simultaneously having water spray out of his shorts, when a knock came on the door.

"Come in," he said.

The door opened, and Jack looked up, expecting Mary. But it wasn't Mary who stood there.

It was an incredibly beautiful young woman, small and slim, with her blonde hair pulled up in a tight bun and glasses framing her big, blue eyes. Jack stared at her in captivation, and she stared back in shock, stunned at being confronted by a man with his pants down.

"Uh…hi…I'm looking for Mary Grayson?" she stammered at last. "Her husband said she might be here."

"Er…no, she's not, sorry," said Jack, reaching down hastily to pull his pants up. Awkwardly, he ended up setting off the seltzer bottle hidden in his pants, which suddenly sprayed onto the strange woman.

"Oh my God, I'm so sorry!" he exclaimed, reaching for a handkerchief. Unfortunately, the nearest handkerchief happened to be his never-ending handkerchief, which took longer than expected to bundle up and hand to her.

"Uh…thanks," she stammered, taking off her glasses and wiping them down.

"Here, let me help…" he began, taking the end handkerchief and trying to blot her clothing.

"No, thank you, you've done quite enough," she interrupted, backing away from him. "I'm guessing from the handkerchief and the dropped pants that you're the clown in residence?" she asked, replacing her glasses on her nose.

"Yeah, call me J," he said, holding out a hand to her. "Or Joker, if you prefer."

"I'm Dr. Harleen Quin…ow!" she exclaimed, as she was suddenly shocked by his joy buzzer while shaking his hand.

"Jesus, sorry, I completely forgot I was wearing that," he stammered, removing it suddenly. "I'm sorry, Dr. Quinn, you must have a horrid impression of me."

"It's Dr. Quinzel, actually," she said, rubbing her hand. "I work at Arkham Asylum."

"Well, you'll find plenty of crazies in the circus, if that's what you're looking for, Doc!" he chuckled.

"Noted," she agreed, glaring at him. "And we prefer the term mentally ill to crazy. The former implies one can recover from it, like any illness, and that's the attitude I take when helping my patients."

"Well, look, Doc, as an apology for all this, why doncha come see the show tonight for free?" asked Jack. "I can get Mr. Haly to give you two tickets, for you and your boyfriend."

"That's very kind, but actually I have no interest in circuses, and no boyfriend to share them with," she retorted.

"Well, if you ain't interested in circuses, what are you doing here?" asked Jack.

"I'm here in my professional capacity," she said, adjusting her glasses. "I was hoping you could tell me where Mary Grayson is, if she's not here."

"Why? There's nothing wrong with her bad enough to be seeing a shrink, is there?" asked Jack.

"Seeing a psychiatrist should not be a stigma, Mr. Joker," snapped Dr. Quinzel. "But no, there's nothing wrong with her specifically, at least not to my knowledge. Her husband sought me out – he's hoping she'll agree to some marriage counseling."

"Oh, you specialize in relationships but you ain't got a boyfriend?" asked Jack, grinning. "Kinda funny, ain't it?"

"Not really," retorted Dr. Quinzel. "And it's not my specialty. My specialty is criminal psychology, which is why I'm employed at Arkham Asylum for the Criminally Insane. But I minored in couples therapy, I'm the only one at Arkham who has any professional expertise in that field, and I offered to give Mr. Grayson several sessions free of charge."

"Yeah? Why's that?" asked Jack. "From my experience, he's kinda a jerk."

Dr. Quinzel glared at him. "He's a man who believes his marriage is falling apart. He doesn't have any money to pay for counseling, but he came to me in tears, begging for help, with his child, who obviously means the world to him. He's just desperately trying to keep his family together while his wife seems to be interested in…other pursuits."

"Hey, I don't know what you've heard, but there's nothing going on between Mary and me," snapped Jack.

"It doesn't matter if there is or not at this point – the fact that Mr. Grayson has these suspicions is enough to torture him," retorted Dr. Quinzel. "Of course the deeper I go into counseling their marriage, the likelier it is that the truth will come out, if there is any truth to his suspicions, of course. Though frankly, I can't imagine any woman would risk her marriage and her family for a clown."

"Well, there's a lot more to me than that, Doc," said Jack. "I ain't really such a bad guy once you get to know me."

"I'm sure that's true, but unfortunately not something I intend to find out," retorted Dr. Quinzel. "I'm counseling Mr. and Mrs. Grayson, not you."

"But…I mean…if you're counseling them, you'll be around, won't you?" asked Jack, slowly. "And if you're around the circus, you should pop over and see me sometime. I promise I'll have my pants on next time, and not spray or shock you with anything. At least not without buying you dinner first," he added, winking at her.

Dr. Quinzel just looked at him. "As utterly charming as that is, I'm afraid I'm going to have to decline your generous offer," she retorted. "Now if you'll excuse me, I need to find Mary Grayson…"

"I'm sorry, Doc, that was a tasteless joke," he interrupted, following her as she headed toward the door. "My comedy's not always to everyone's taste, but I really would like to get to know you better…"

"Maybe I didn't make myself clear, Mr. Joker," she said, turning to him. "I'm a doctor. And you're a clown. So whatever you're thinking about the two of us, it's not going to happen. Unless I lose my mind, and I don't think that's likely, do you? Have a nice day," she said, leaving the trailer and slamming the door shut.

Jack stared after her. "Dammit," he muttered, securing his pants. "Way to go, Jack. 'I promise I'll have my pants on next time, and not to spray or shock you with anything, at least not without buying you dinner first'?! What kinda stupid line was that for a classy dame like that?!"

He sighed, picking up his joy buzzer again. "Well, it was probably doomed before we even met – John Grayson's probably poisoned her against me already," he muttered. "And any dame who would buy his pathetic act obviously can't be too bright. I can do better."

He went to go refill the seltzer bottle from the hose outside, and saw Dr. Quinzel walking with Mary back to the Grayson's trailer. "Still, there's something about her," he murmured, watching Dr. Quinzel's smile, which beamed compassion. "But she's right – it would never work. A gal like her and a clown like me…I must be outta my mind."


	4. Chapter 4

"Did you know that John has gotten a shrink in to help us with marriage counseling?" asked Mary Grayson, as Jack lit her post-coital cigarette for her.

"Yeah, I heard," replied Jack, casually.

"You should hear him talk to her – the way he tells it, I'm completely responsible for us not getting along anymore," said Mary, puffing out a cloud of smoke. "He's the ideal husband, and I'm a tramp who's trying to break up our family. When the reality is he's the one who started causing problems long before I did, treating me as nothing more than an accessory to his job. Ever since Dick came along, I've been less of a wife and more just part of the Flying Graysons act for him. And in terms of physical affection, you can forget about it. Maybe if he's unhappy with our marriage, he should be a man and take some responsibility for it instead of laying it all at my feet."

"Have you told the shrink this?" asked Jack.

"Yeah, and she's trying to hear both sides," said Mary. "I guess she's good at her job, but unless John starts to really change, I don't see that there's much we can do. I mean, I'd like for us to stay together, for Dick's sake, and I know John's desperate not to break up the whole Flying Graysons act, but if all he wants is a partner in his job, then he shouldn't get so angry if he suspects I'm seeing someone else. He's welcome to do it too," she added, puffing out a cloud of smoke.

"Maybe he could start seeing the shrink – she's kinda hot," commented Jack.

"How do you know?" asked Mary.

"She…uh…came looking for you in here," said Jack. "And I thought she wasn't bad looking, in a nerdy sorta way. Might suit a guy like John."

Mary snorted. "Well, sure, if she likes pathetic men. More power to them."

She blew out another cloud of smoke. "Anyway, she asked if you might come along to one of the sessions."

"Me? Why?" asked Jack. "This is between you and John."

"Well, she's trying to figure out who to believe – if you corroborate my story and act like a nice guy, she'll be less likely to believe John's slanders that you're some monster who's lured me away from my loving husband," said Mary. "Plus if she thinks there's nothing going on between us, John's rants will make him the paranoid delusional, and she can focus on him being the problem between us. Frankly, he needs all the help he can get."

"And what makes you think I'm that good a liar?" asked Jack.

"Well, you've hidden who you used to be pretty well from everyone here, including me," said Mary, shrugging. "Not that I want to pry. I know it's not exactly the same as lying, but a guy who can keep secrets is usually a pretty good liar."

"I haven't told you because I don't want to get you involved," retorted Jack. "It's my business."

"Suit yourself," said Mary. "Whatever it was, it can't be that bad. Though I assume it's something illegal if you were this scared of being back in Gotham. Could be drugs, but I don't see you as the drug type."

"Mary, drop it, please," he snapped. "I don't wanna talk about what I used to be, all right? As far as I'm concerned, I'm just a clown now, and that's all I'll ever be."

"Suit yourself," repeated Mary. "But you will come to this session with the shrink, won't you?"

"I guess," agreed Jack. "Though I imagine it's gonna be pretty awkward."

"The shrink does a good job handling awkwardness," said Mary. "And she's good with Dick too – likes kids, and makes sure he doesn't hear stuff he shouldn't. Makes the whole thing less traumatic for him. Honestly, subjecting an eight-year-old boy to our marital problems – I don't know what John was thinking," she muttered. "He can be so unreasonable sometimes…"

Jack said nothing, puffing on his cigarette and tuning her out. He was kinda tired of hearing about her marriage already – when he had first come to the circus, Mary had been the only one who had been friendly enough to welcome him, so naturally he had gravitated toward her as a friend. She had been the one who made the first move towards their relationship becoming more than friendly – she had kissed him in the shadow of his trailer one night. When she encouraged him to go further once inside his trailer, he happily obliged her. To his mind, it wasn't polite to refuse a woman in her carnal ambitions, married or not. At first, their physical relationship had been just that – purely physical with little to no talking, only desperate, passionate, quick encounters between shows. They didn't talk about the reasons behind the affair - it had been new and thrilling and exciting, and hadn't really seemed serious enough to discuss. But as time passed, Mary seemed to want Jack to be more than someone she used for sexual release. She seemed to want to tell him all about her marriage, and her reasons for being dissatisfied with it. Jack almost thought this was her way to excuse the affair to herself, to ward off the gradual guilt he could sense building. Women always took things so seriously, and always wanted things to be more serious than they were, he thought with a frown. Why couldn't they just enjoy a little fun?

"What's wrong?" she asked suddenly, noticing his frown.

"Nothing," he said, hastily.

"Am I boring you?" she asked.

Jack wondered if he should answer honestly, but he knew by now this was a mistake with women, especially highly-strung women. "Of course not, baby," he said. "I just…don't always wanna hear about your husband, that's all."

"Why not? You jealous?" she asked.

Jack laughed. "Jealous? Of a man in tights? Yeah, that'll be the day hell freezes over."

"You're not jealous that he's married to me?" she asked.

"No, why would I be?" he asked, puzzled.

She shrugged. "I just thought maybe if this marriage counseling doesn't work out, and I honestly can't bear staying with John…I could divorce him and marry you instead."

Jack stared at her. "Marry…me?" he stammered. "Uh…baby…I'm not sure I…"

"What?" she asked. "You do want to marry me, don't you? You love me, right?"

"Well, it ain't that, baby, it's just…" He grasped at the first straw he could think of. "Your son hates me – he'd never accept me as his stepfather."

"Well, maybe he would if you tried a little bit harder to engage with him," said Mary. "I'm sure the more time you spend together, the more you'll like each other."

"Baby, I'm just…not ready for a commitment like that," he stammered. "A wife and a kid…I'm not…that kinda guy."

"So what you're saying is you're just playing with me?" she demanded. "You thought it would be real fun to seduce a married woman, as long as you didn't have to commit, huh?"

"I don't think I was the one doing the seducing…" began Jack.

"Oh my God, I don't believe this!" she exclaimed, standing up. "You're all up for this at the beginning, but then the moment I want things to get serious between us, you try and weasel out!"

"I'm not trying to weasel out of anything!" exclaimed Jack. "I just thought…what we had was a bit of fun, and I liked it that way! I didn't know you'd want anything more than that!"

"Oh, I get it, you thought I was just some slut you could use for sex without committing to!" snapped Mary.

"Yes!" exclaimed Jack. "Because I thought that's what you thought about me! I thought this was just fun and casual – I didn't know you wanted to divorce your husband and get married! I don't want you to divorce your husband! I really hope this shrink comes through for you, and you can rebuild your marriage and have a happy life together with your son!"

"So you don't love me?" she demanded.

"I guess if you think that means I want to marry you, then no, I don't!" snapped Jack.

"I don't believe you!" she shrieked. "How could you lie to me like that?!"

"I don't think I did lie…" he began, but Mary slapped him across the face suddenly.

"Well, at least I know you're a good liar after all," she muttered, heading for the door. "Be at the session tomorrow at noon – if you wanna help repair my marriage, you'd better do your part!"

Jack rubbed his cheek as she slammed the door, wondering if maybe Mary did need the services of a shrink after all.


	5. Chapter 5

At noon the next day, Jack knocked on the door to the Grayson's trailer. It was opened by Dr. Harleen Quinzel, and Jack's heart leapt as he looked at her, more beautiful than he remembered, wearing black pants and a red blouse.

"Thank you for coming, Mr. Joker," she said, holding the door for him. "Please understand that this is a conflict free environment, which means that nobody will be accusing you of anything. I just want to mediate you, and Mr. and Mrs. Grayson in a civil conversation. I'm sure if we all just sit down and talk, we can resolve Mr. Grayson's suspicions, and reassure him of your and his wife's platonic relationship."

"I'm happy to help, Doc," said Jack, taking a seat next to Mary. John and Dick sat opposite them, both looking at Jack in loathing, as Dr. Quinzel took a seat in between them.

"I think Dick should probably go outside and play for a little while, just in case some things are said that he shouldn't hear," said Dr. Quinzel, smiling at the boy. "Go ahead, Dick – I'll call you back in when we're ready."

"Thanks, Dr. Quinzel," said Dick, leaving the trailer and shutting the door behind him.

"Now Mr. Grayson, can you please tell me when the suspicions of your wife's infidelity began?" asked Dr. Quinzel, taking out a pad of paper. "And why?"

"Since he came here," retorted John, glaring at Jack. "We were a happy family before that."

"News to me," retorted Mary. "Don't believe him, Dr. Quinzel – he'd been ignoring me for some time before that."

"I didn't ignore you – we perform together every night!" snapped John.

"Yes, John, and that's how I feel!" she exclaimed. "Like we only have a professional relationship! You never seem interested in any of my personal feelings! And even before J arrived, our sex life was practically non-existent!"

"You always said you were tired from looking after Dick all day!" exclaimed John.

"Maybe you could help me look after him, and then I wouldn't be tired!" snapped Mary.

"Ok, there are a lot of issues here, but I want to focus on the main one," said Dr. Quinzel, holding up a hand. "Why did these issues come to a head when Mr. Joker arrived?"

"Because Mary was practically all over him instantly!" snapped John.

"I was being friendly and welcoming, unlike everyone else here!" retorted Mary.

"It's true – Mary was very kind to me, and she was the only one," said Jack.

"And you saw this kindness as something more, Mr. Grayson?" asked Dr. Quinzel. "As a threat to your relationship with your wife?"

"Well, she starts going over to see him alone in his trailer all the time!" snapped John. "What the hell am I supposed to think?"

"You could trust me!" shouted Mary. "Aren't I allowed to have friends, John, without them being a threat to you? Sounds like you're pretty insecure in yourself."

"I'm insecure in your feelings for me!" snapped John. "Which is why we're here! Anyway, I don't blame you, Mary – it's completely his fault," he muttered, glaring at Jack. "He's a slimy, disgusting snake who's obviously seduced my wife. He can deny it all he wants, but I know the truth."

"Ok, why do you think it's Mr. Joker's fault if something is going on?" asked Dr. Quinzel.

"Because it's obvious!" snapped John. "Look at him! He won't tell any of us what his real name is or what he used to do before coming here – he's obviously some kinda criminal!"

"Mr. Grayson, that's really not fair to accuse someone with no evidence, or judge someone from their appearance," said Dr. Quinzel. "Anyway, extra-marital affairs are rarely a one way street – even if Mr. Joker did approach Mrs. Grayson, there had to be a reason for her to consent, if she did."

"Of course she did!" shouted John. "She leaves me with the kid while she goes off and screws some clown in the next trailer! I just don't know why, or how to stop it and rebuild our marriage again!"

"In order for me to help you rebuild your marriage, you both have to acknowledge some fault for the situation," said Dr. Quinzel. "Blaming each other doesn't help – only admission of the truth, acknowledgment that you can both do better, and a willingness to reconcile will help you rebuild."

"Yes, John, why don't you admit your fault in this situation?" demanded Mary.

"Oh, screw you!" shouted John, standing up and heading for the door. "I need a break, Dr. Quinzel, excuse me," he said, slamming the door on his way out.

"Me too," said Mary, standing up. "Coming, J?"

"I think I'll just…stay here for now," said Jack.

Mary shrugged, leaving Jack and Dr. Quinzel alone. She sighed, putting down her pen. "Kinda a lost cause, huh?" asked Jack.

"No, I don't think any relationship is a lost cause," sighed Dr. Quinzel, removing her glasses. "But it's going to take a heck of a lotta work on both their parts, and I'm not sure they're willing to do it."

She cleaned her glasses, replacing them on her nose. "Look, while they're not here…I just wanted to say…there is something going on between me and Mary," spoke up Jack. "I wanna tell you that in confidence. But he's wrong – she came on to me. I probably should have refused her, but…well, I didn't," he said, shrugging. "But I honestly want her to rebuild her marriage with her husband – our affair shouldn't have been a long-term thing, and I want to end it."

"So why don't you?" she asked.

"I tried – I tried to leave the circus before we came to Gotham," he said. "She threatened to kill herself by jumping off the high wire. So I stayed."

Dr. Quinzel sighed. "You shouldn't stay in a relationship under threat of blackmail, Mr. Joker," she murmured. "But I can see why you did. Thank you for being honest with me."

"You gotta believe me, I never wanted to break up their marriage or anything like that," he said. "I thought we were just having a bit of fun, and I didn't expect things to go this far or get this serious. I'm not a serious kinda guy, but…I'm not a bad kinda guy."

"No, I don't think you are," she said, studying him.

"Both of them, they're just…highly strung," said Jack. "If you'll forgive the joke."

"Joke?" repeated Dr. Quinzel.

"Yeah, they're acrobats, so highly strung…on the high wire…" began Jack.

"That's a terrible joke," retorted Dr. Quinzel.

"Yeah, not one of my best," he agreed.

"And people pay you to be funny?" asked Dr. Quinzel.

"Well, for some reason you throw my humor off," replied Jack, with a grin.

She said nothing, looking out the window of the trailer and waiting for the Graysons to return. Jack sat in awkward silence, trying to think of something to say to her.

"You like card tricks?" he asked at last.

"Are they better than your jokes?" she asked.

"Well, I'll leave you to judge," he said, pulling a pack out of his pocket and holding them out to her. "Pick a card and don't tell me what it is."

Dr. Quinzel obeyed. He folded the deck and looked from the back of the card to her, waving his hands. "Queen of Hearts," he said at last.

She looked surprised. "That's right," she said, handing it back to him. "How did you know that?"

"Well, she's the card of beauty and compassion," he said. "So I figured you'd be drawn to her since she's just like you."

She studied him. "You didn't shuffle the cards," she said. "You have them in a memorized order in the pack, so you could easily identify which one I picked. That's the trick, isn't it?"

"A clown never reveals his tricks," retorted Jack, replacing the card. "But let's just say you're sharper than the average audience member."

"To be honest, I liked your explanation better," she said. "Mine just kinda ruins the magic of it. But then I've always had a tendency to spoil people's fun by ruining the mystery. When I was five, I ruined our class's Christmas party when I called Santa Claus a fake because I noticed his beard was glued on. And the less said about my trip to Disneyland when I was seven, the better."

"I can see why you're a good doctor," said Jack, nodding. "Serious minded kinda gal."

"Yes, I guess I am," agreed Dr. Quinzel. "I certainly wouldn't suit your profession anyway."

"Oh, I think you might," he said, grinning. "Teach you one or two tricks, paint a smile on you…you never know, you might be a natural."

Dr. Quinzel smiled at him, and Jack felt his heart soar. It was brought back to his chest with a bump as the door opened and Mary and John stormed back in, looking as miserable as when they had left.

"You know, I don't think Mr. Joker being here is particularly helpful – he seems to just make tensions worse between you," said Dr. Quinzel, standing up. "I'll just show him out."

"Thanks, Doc, you're a lifesaver," muttered Jack at the door. "I don't know how you stand being in that environment."

"Serious minded, remember?" she said. "I don't mind it, as long as I think I'm making progress."

"I hope you can," he said, sincerely. "It's really hard on everyone, especially the kid," he said, glancing at Dick who was doing some tricks with the animal trainers. "Kids shouldn't grow up with parents who can't get along – believe me, I know how tough that is."

Dick glanced back, glaring at Jack, and headed toward them. "I should go – we don't really get along," said Jack, heading off. "It was nice to see you again, Dr. Quinzel."

Dr. Quinzel watched him leave. "Whatever he said to you, you shouldn't listen to him, Dr. Quinzel," Dick snapped.

"Why's that, Dick?" she asked.

"Because he's a bad clown," said Dick.

"No, Dick," she murmured, gazing after him. "I honestly don't think he is."


	6. Chapter 6

The next day, Jack left his trailer to see Dr. Quinzel seated on a bale of hay outside, eating a salad. "Hey, mind if I join you?" he asked, approaching her.

"No, not at all," she replied, moving over so he could sit down. "I'm a little early for the session so I thought I'd get a snack."

"You shoulda asked Mr. Haly for some peanuts and popcorn," said Jack, taking a seat next to her. "We always got some of that lying around. Though I see you more as a cotton candy kinda gal."

"What's that supposed to mean?" she asked.

"You know, bright and sweet," he said, shrugging.

"And terrible for your health and teeth," she commented.

"Oh, you can't worry about things like that," said Jack, waving a hand. "You're telling me you can resist something so good just because you think it's bad for you?"

"I haven't had any since I was six, so yes," she retorted.

He shook his head. "Tragic. Hang on a second," he said, standing up and heading over to the concessions trailer. He turned on the cotton candy machine and stirred around until he had a pink, fluffy bundle, which he brought back over to Dr. Quinzel. "Try a bite," he said. "It's irresistible."

"I really don't think so, thanks," retorted Dr. Quinzel.

He shrugged. "Suit yourself," he said, taking a bite himself. "It's one of the perks of working here – all the cotton candy you can eat. Almost makes up for the fact that it always smells like animal crap."

"I don't know why anyone would do that job," said Dr. Quinzel, nodding at Leo the Lion Tamer who was cleaning out the cages nearby. "I mean, cleaning up after the animals is bad enough, but I can't imagine doing things like what lion tamers do, sticking your head in a wild animal's mouth and trusting it not to bite it off. I could never do that."

"Sounds like a trust issue," commented Jack, taking another bite of cotton candy.

"I don't think it's an issue not to trust wild animals," retorted Dr. Quinzel. "I call it common sense."

"Well, the trainer usually bonds with 'em," said Jack, nodding at the lion cages. "Leo over there has been raising those lions since they were cubs. They know him and trust him – he's like their family. And you don't tend to kill your family unless you're psycho."

"And lions never go psycho, huh?" asked Dr. Quinzel.

"You're the shrink, you tell me!" he chuckled. "But generally in a family, you can tell if someone's a little nuts. I imagine the same goes for animals, and then you don't stick your head in their mouths. You just put 'em down."

"I trust you don't feel the same way about human lunatics," replied Dr. Quinzel.

"God, no," said Jack. "Or I'd probably have to include myself. Anyone who would be a circus clown really needs their head examined."

"So why do you do it?" asked Dr. Quinzel.

Jack shrugged, eating more cotton candy. "It's a job that pays that I can do. I'm pretty good at it, if I do say so myself. And I like making people laugh. Nothing makes me happier than seeing smiling faces – I imagine you feel the same, because you became a shrink."

"I don't see the connection," said Dr. Quinzel.

"Well, I give people a break from reality, which makes 'em happy," said Jack. "And you help people deal with reality so they can be happy again. Our goals are ultimately pretty similar. We just help people in different ways."

"And I imagine your student debt for clown college is less than mine for medical school," replied Dr. Quinzel with a grin.

Jack laughed. "See, you can joke!" he said. "You should stop by the show some night – I'll put you in my act. You can be my sidekick, Harley Quinn."

"That's clever. Did you just come up with that?" asked Dr. Quinzel.

"Nah, I thought it up last night," said Jack. "I didn't go to college, clown or otherwise, so being witty ain't my specialty. My comedy's more obvious, whoopie cushion, seltzer squirting, pant dropping stuff. A lotta physical comedy, belly laugh, gut-busting humor, nothing to appeal to a brainy doll like you."

"Actually, I got into college on a gymnast scholarship," said Dr. Quinzel. "But I switched my major to psychology, so they took away the scholarship, which is why I got so much debt. Medical school isn't cheap."

"I can imagine," said Jack, nodding. "It's a shame – pretty people should never worry about money. Why'd you give up your gymnastics?"

Dr. Quinzel shrugged. "I'm not a very competitive person. And the training was really intense – I didn't feel like devoting my life solely to winning a buncha medals. It just seemed like kinda a hollow way to live. I've always preferred helping other people to focusing on myself."

"Well, you wouldn't have had to compete," said Jack. "You coulda been an acrobat, like the Flying Graysons."

"I don't think that would have suited me either," said Dr. Quinzel. "All that moving around from place to place, never settling anywhere…plus I'm kinda a shy, reserved person. Performing wouldn't have suited me at all."

"Hey, don't knock it until you've tried it," said Jack, shrugging. "Why doncha come here early tomorrow and you can show me your stuff on the trapeze? I'd love to see what you can do, and some part of you must miss it."

"I don't think so," said Dr. Quinzel. "Anyway, I wouldn't want to step on the Grayson's toes."

"I'm sure they'd be happy to lend you the use of their trapeze in exchange for all the great therapy you're giving them," said Jack. "It's really the least they can do."

"No, I really wouldn't be comfortable with that, thank you, Mr. Joker," said Dr. Quinzel.

He shrugged. "Suit yourself. And call me J, Doc."

He held out the cotton candy to her. "Last bite. Speak now or forever hold your peace."

She hesitated, and then took it from him. "It's better than I remember," she said, tasting it.

"That's because it's made fresh daily," said Jack. "Only the best processed sugar for Haly's Circus."

Dr. Quinzel smiled, watching Leo finish cleaning the cages. She smiled and waved at him, and he glanced over at Jack, glared from him to her, and then stormed off. "Is there a reason why everyone's being so unfriendly?" asked Dr. Quinzel, lowering her hand.

"Probably because you're hanging out with me," commented Jack. "I'm not well-liked in this little family."

"Why not?" asked Dr. Quinzel. "Because of you and Mrs. Grayson?"

"Partially that," agreed Jack. "They all think I'm the one who started that, being the homewrecker and breaking up a happy family. And partially because, contrary to popular belief, not a lotta people actually like clowns."

"I'm sure it's not that," said Dr. Quinzel. She paused. "What Mr. Grayson said, about you not telling anyone who you used to be…I suppose that would make them a little hostile."

"It's nobody's business," retorted Jack. "My past is nobody's business but my own, and it's gonna stay that way. I'm sorry if people don't like that, but if being a part of this circus family means I don't get to keep my business private, then I don't wanna be part of it. I don't think that's unreasonable."

"No, it isn't," agreed Dr. Quinzel. "But I guess you could always make something up."

"You mean lie?" asked Jack. "Are shrinks supposed to advocate that? I thought you were all about being honest."

"We are," said Dr. Quinzel. "But if it would make your life easier, it's the kinda lie that doesn't hurt anyone, does it?"

"No, I guess not," agreed Jack. He chuckled. "Thanks for the free therapy, Doc," he said, standing up. "But I gotta get back to practicing my act."

"You're welcome. Thank you for the cotton candy," she said. "And…if at some point, I did decide I missed doing gymnastics and wanted to use the trapeze…when would be a good time?"

"Anytime there's not a show on," said Jack. "You come get me. But maybe call first so you can make sure I have my pants on," he said, handing her a card with his number on it. "Of course you could always ask the Graysons to accompany you…"

"They're my patients," said Dr. Quinzel. "I'm not sure that would be professional. Anyway, there's a lotta tension being around them."

"Tell me about it," said Jack, nodding. "I can't tell you how relieved I was that Mary didn't stop by last night. But I think she's still mad at me for saying I didn't wanna marry her. I made it clear what we had was just casual and she…didn't much care for that."

"I can imagine," said Dr. Quinzel, nodding. "But that's good – you've drawn a line in the sand, and now she has to decide if she wants to carry on her casual fling at the risk of her marriage. I'm pretty sure she's not that crazy."

"Nope, and I'm not that irresistible!" chuckled Jack. "See you around, Doc!"

Dr. Quinzel smiled, standing up and heading for the Grayson's trailer. She didn't notice Mary Grayson watching her from the window, with burning, furious eyes glaring from her to Jack.


	7. Chapter 7

After the show that evening, Jack returned to his trailer to remove his clown makeup. He sat down in front of his mirror and was immediately pounced on by Mary Grayson, who flung her arms around him and nuzzled his neck. "I missed you, big boy," she purred.

"Mary…what the hell are you doing here?" he demanded, removing her arms from around him.

"I told you, I missed you," she said with a grin.

He stared at her. "I thought we agreed we wouldn't do this anymore," he said. "I thought you wanted to rebuild your marriage with your husband."

"I do, J," she said, sliding her hands up his chest. "But that doesn't mean we can't continue to have fun, if that's the way you want it."

"It's not," retorted Jack, removing her hands again. "It's over, Mary. I'm sorry."

"J, what's gotten into you?" she demanded.

"I just don't want to do this anymore," he retorted.

"Why? When did you grow a conscience?" she demanded. "Or is it just that you don't find me attractive anymore?"

"Mary, it's not that," he said. "It just…doesn't feel right anymore."

"Why not?" she demanded.

"I don't know – it just doesn't," he retorted. "Anyway, I'm not gonna change my mind about this. Why don't you just go back to your family?" he asked, reaching for a wipe for his makeup.

She glared at him. "I know what this is," she hissed. "It's that shrink bitch, isn't it?"

"What are you talking about?" he demanded, turning to her.

"I saw you sitting with her today," she snapped. "I saw you give her your number."

"Yeah, she wanted to try the trapeze sometime, and I said I could arrange it," said Jack, wiping his face. "What's wrong with that?"

"Oh, don't act innocent, J – it doesn't suit a guy who screws around with another man's wife," snapped Mary. "You told me yourself you thought the shrink was hot, and somehow, coincidentally, the moment she arrives, you suddenly don't wanna have anything to do with me anymore. In fact, the night after you saw her was the night you decided you didn't want to commit to me. Don't think I'm stupid enough to not realize she's the reason for that."

"She's not," retorted Jack. "I never wanted to commit to you, Mary. I'm not a committed kinda guy. A casual affair suited me just fine."

"So you want a casual affair with the shrink?" demanded Mary.

"If I did, it wouldn't be any of your business," snapped Jack, rounding on her. "If I wanted a relationship with her, it wouldn't be any of your business, because guess what, Mary? You ain't my wife! In fact, I'm not married, so unlike some people here, I can be with whoever I want!"

She glared at him, shaking in fury. "Don't you dare take the moral highground with me, J," she hissed. "There are things I can do to you, things I can do to your job and your reputation here."

"Ok, first of all, don't ever threaten me," snapped Jack. "I'm a more dangerous person than you know, Mary. And second of all, I doubt there's much damage you can do to my reputation here – everyone already hates me because they think I broke up the happy Grayson home life. They'd never believe me even if I told them the truth, that you were the one who threw herself at me."

"No, they wouldn't," Mary said, calmly. "I played the happy wife really well. So well, in fact, that if I told people that you forced me to cheat on my husband, they'd probably believe me."

"Your idiot husband probably already believes that," snapped Jack.

"Maybe," agreed Mary, nodding. "But I'd mostly be interested in telling the shrink. No woman would ever consider going out with a guy who does that to women."

"She wouldn't believe you," retorted Jack.

"Are you willing to take that chance?" asked Mary. "And are you willing to let me tell Mr. Haly, who'll fire you, or maybe the cops? After all, you're a little edgy about being back in Gotham, aren't you? Do you think you'd enjoy a visit from the law?"

"Mary, you're being ridiculous!" snapped Jack. "I thought you wanted us to end this anyway so you could rebuild your marriage!"

"No, that's what _you_ want!" snapped Mary. "And now I see it was just because you wanted to go off with the shrink instead! I didn't realize I was just a placeholder until someone better came along, and I am not the type of woman who takes being used and discarded well!"

"So if you can't have me, no one can, is that it?" demanded Jack.

"Something like that," agreed Mary. "Go ahead, J, try me."

Jack glared at her. "You talk tough, Mary," he muttered. "But I honestly wonder if you know how dangerous it is to blackmail people. Some people don't take that well either."

"What are you going to do? Kill me?" demanded Mary.

Jack said nothing, but for the first time almost wished he'd called her bluff on the suicide thing. At least he wouldn't be in this mess.

Mary sighed. "J, I don't want us to be enemies," she murmured. "I care about you, just like I hope you care about me. And you have to understand how vulnerable I feel, being accused of ruining our marriage by John…I just need your support. I can't lose you to someone else right now – I just wouldn't be able to cope. I might…do something desperate."

"You mean more desperate than blackmailing someone to stay in a relationship with you because you're threatening to falsely accuse them of rape?" demanded Jack.

"I know it's wrong," whispered Mary. "But I just…I'm just…not in a good place right now…mentally…I'm just…desperate not to lose you. I…I don't know what I'd do!" she sobbed, bursting into tears.

Jack still said nothing, feeling completely unmoved by her crying display. "You have no right to treat me like this, Mary," he whispered.

"I know!" she sobbed. "I know! I should be better than this, I shouldn't give in to jealousy, but I'm not strong enough to resist it right now! J, please, just…just stay with me for a little while longer. Please, I'm begging you," she said, falling to her knees. "Just a little while longer, and then you can do whatever you want, with whoever you want. And I'll repay you somehow…I'll…I'll put in a good word for you with everyone, with Mr. Haly, and John, and Dick, and the shrink, if that's what you want. Please, J. I just…can't lose you."

Jack sat back down slowly. "Here's what we're going to do," he said at last. "We are going to make a deal. We will continue to see each other until the circus leaves Gotham. After that, we're done, so I suggest you make progress with reconciling your marriage. In the meantime, you will not say a word against me to anyone, especially not the shrink. And I am free to interact with her as I see fit, without you raising the slightest objection. If you break the terms of this deal, I will be forced to show you a very nasty side of myself. I'm a man of my word, and trust me when I say you will not like the consequences should that happen. I'm sorry we have to bring deals into this, but it's really the only way I'm going to feel comfortable going forward, if we treat the whole thing like a business transaction."

"Which makes us both prostitutes, I suppose," commented Mary.

"If you choose to see it that way," said Jack, nodding. "As you say, neither of us has the moral highground. So why not make our affair into a simple business transaction? Maybe that way you can learn to keep your feelings out of it."

Mary nodded slowly. "Fine. It's a deal."

Jack extended his hand, and she took it. "Don't you dare break it," he murmured, looking intently into her eyes. "I'm warning you."

"I won't," said Mary.

"Good," said Jack. "Now get undressed and let's get this over with."

"How romantic," said Mary, rolling her eyes.

"I told you, this isn't romance," said Jack. "If it helps you understand that, then it's already a good thing. This is business, plain and simple. Maybe once you start to see it that way, you'll appreciate the relationship you've got with your husband more. And you'll realize that our relationship was never anything more, at least not on my part. But if it gives you some sort of emotional validation to have a purely physical relationship with another man, that's your business. I know I'm looking forward to this all being over. And I won't be thinking about you during the act."

"Just as long as you don't say her name, I'm fine," snapped Mary, undressing.

Jack knew Mary wasn't acting rationally, but he had run out of all sympathy for her. He was sick of dealing with crazy people. And he hoped by the time the circus left Gotham, he would have them out of his life forever.


	8. Chapter 8

Jack's phone rang early the next day, and he groaned, picking it up and muttering, "Whoever this is, get lost."

"Uh…Mr. Joker? It's Dr. Quinzel," said the voice on the other end.

"Oh…Dr. Quinzel, hi," said Jack, instantly sitting up.

"I didn't wake you, did I?" she asked.

"No, no, been up for hours," lied Jack. "What can I do for you, Doc?"

"Well, I have a session with the Graysons in a couple of hours, and I was wondering if after that, I could try out that trapeze."

"Sure, yeah, no problem," said Jack. "Just head to the big top after your session, and I'll meet you."

"Ok, thanks," said Dr. Quinzel.

"Good luck today with the therapy," said Jack. "I hope you make good progress. Really, really hope," he added.

"Thank you. I'll try my best. See you later," said Dr. Quinzel, hanging up.

Jack hurried to take a shower and make himself look presentable. Then he headed to the big top and began checking the acrobatic equipment.

"What are you doing, J?" asked a voice. Jack looked up to see Mr. Haly studying him.

"Making sure the trapeze is safe," retorted Jack. "I got a friend who's coming over to practice, and I don't want any accidents."

"Is that so?" asked Mr. Haly, raising his eyebrows. "Well, I really hope it is safe, because your friend isn't insured as part of my circus, and if an accident happens, it'll be on your head."

"I'll take full responsibility, Mr. Haly, I promise," said Jack. "But nothing's gonna happen to her, I guarantee it. She got into college on a gymnast scholarship, so she ain't an amateur."

"Oh, a female friend," commented Mr. Haly. "I trust this one's single and available."

"What do you mean by that?" asked Jack.

"Just that there are rumors," murmured Mr. Haly. "Which I'm sure you've heard. Rumors about you and Mrs. Grayson. Of course I can't fire you for rumors, J, and if this lady friend of yours means you're going to confine your attentions to her, that would be ideal."

"She's the only woman I'm interested in, Mr. Haly, I swear," said Jack.

"Good," said Mr. Haly, nodding. "I don't need the Graysons to be feuding at a time like this – I've been discussing changing their act with John."

"Changing how?" asked Jack.

"Well, John wants to make their act even more death-defying than usual," said Mr. Haly, nodding at the harness. "Which means no harness, and no wires, in addition to the usual no net."

"I honestly don't think that's a good idea, Mr. Haly," said Jack. "I mean, accidents can always happen, can't they?"

"Can they?" asked Mr. Haly, raising his eyebrows again. "The Graysons have been performing together for years, and have never needed any safety equipment. I would be extremely surprised if any accident happened now. Surprised and suspicious," he added.

"Mr. Haly, if you're going to accuse me of something, just come out and say it," snapped Jack.

"I'm not accusing you of anything," said Mr. Haly. "I'm just telling you not to be messing with the wires back here again. Just in case something does happen, I would hate to have to blame you."

"Why would I want to kill the Graysons?" demanded Jack.

"I didn't say you did," said Mr. Haly. "I'm just warning you not to try anything like that. You see, J, I'm not sure what sort of man you are," he said, leaning forward. "You're a good clown, but I think that's because your own life has been anything but comical. And the fact that you choose to conceal it means there's probably something unsavory about it. I just want you to know that I'm watching you."

"And waiting for an excuse to fire me, is that it?" asked Jack. "Any excuse will do, even ones with no evidence?"

"On the contrary, J, I just want things to go back to normal in my happy little family," said Mr. Haly. "The sooner that happens, the better. I think you understand me."

"Oh yeah, I do," agreed Jack. "Now if you don't mind, my lady friend will be here soon, and we'd like some privacy."

Mr. Haly shrugged, heading back to his trailer. Jack checked the wires again, shaking in fury. The moment the circus left Gotham, he was finding another job.

"Mr. Joker?" asked a voice, and he turned, beaming to see Dr. Quinzel entering the big top.

"Hey, Doc, how was the session?" he asked.

"It went really well," said Dr. Quinzel. "Mrs. Grayson seemed genuinely interested in making progress, and admitted she could do better, which led Mr. Grayson to admit the same thing. So that's a huge step forward. Looks like your line in the sand worked," she added.

"Yeah…sure did," agreed Jack, slowly. "So…uh…you can get changed over here," he said, gesturing her over to a curtain. "That's how we do our quick changes during showtime."

"Actually, I wore my leotard under my clothes," said Dr. Quinzel. "I guess…I was kinda more eager to get back into the acrobatics than I thought," she added, with a grin.

"Well, I won't look anyway," said Jack, turning away. "I've just done a safety test of your equipment, and you're good to go! There's a harness there too."

"Great, thank you," said Dr. Quinzel, ducking behind the curtain and stripping off her clothes. "Is there a safety net?" she asked, reappearing from behind the screen in a red leotard, with her blonde hair down.

Jack turned back and could only stare at her in astonishment. "What is it?" she asked, putting her hair up into pigtails.

"It's…uh…nothing…red's a nice color on you," he invented, hastily. "And you look different without your glasses."

"Well, it's hard to flip around with them on," said Dr. Quinzel. "Thank God for contact lenses. How does this go on?" she asked, holding up the harness.

"You have to buckle it in the back there," he said. "I can help you if you want."

"Please," she said, handing it to him. Jack put it over her body. "It's a little loose on you – you're skinnier than Mary," he commented. "That's as tight as it goes. But it should hold."

"It does feel a little loose," agreed Dr. Quinzel. "Anyway, is there a safety net?" she repeated.

"Er…no, the Graysons don't use a safety net – that's kinda their thing," said Jack. "Death-defying and all…uh…but the harness should hold, like I said, and if there's a problem…I'll catch you."

"That would be some catch," commented Dr. Quinzel, looking up at the trapeze far above them. "But ok, I'll trust you," she said, smiling at him. "About the harness being safe, not the catching part," she added. "Hopefully I won't have to trust you on that."

She scaled the ladder. "Though I gotta say, not having the net is making me a lot more nervous," she commented. "But it's not like this is anything I haven't done before. But it has been a few years."

"You don't have to if you don't want to," said Jack. "I don't want you to feel pressured…"

"It's not you who's pressuring me – it's me," replied Dr. Quinzel. "Now I want to prove to myself I can still do it." She took a deep breath as she reached the top. "Well, here goes," she said, leaping forward.

She seized the trapeze and swung over to the next one, doing a flip in the air before she caught it. "Wow – that's at least as good as the Flying Graysons right there!" exclaimed Jack, as she pulled herself onto the next bar.

She smiled, flipping around the bar a few times before leaping to the next. "Not so scary when you're back in the swing of it," she commented, landing on the other side.

"Seriously, Doc, if you wanna give up the shrink gig, I'm sure you could easily get a job with Mr. Haly, or any other circus," said Jack.

"I don't think the Flying Doctor sounds as good as the Flying Graysons," commented Dr. Quinzel.

Jack laughed as she leaped back onto the trapeze, taking a bar in each hand and spinning herself between them. "I think you're the most talented person I know," said Jack.

"I think that's not true," she replied.

"It is," he insisted. "You've trained your mind and your body so that they can both do incredible things, when most people just pick one or the other. Or in my case, neither," he added.

"I don't think that's true either," she replied.

"It is – you should see my act," he said. "Nothing special there – it's not particularly witty or physically demanding. Just a lotta silly crap."

Dr. Quinzel caught the next bar with her legs, and hung upside down to look at him. "All right," she said. "I will see your act. I'll come to the circus tomorrow night, how about that?"

"Really?" he asked, hopefully. "I thought you weren't interested."

"It's the least I can do after you let me use the trapeze," she said. "Anyway, it's a good excuse to buy some more cotton candy."

She grinned at him, and he grinned back. "You better be careful – you get a taste of the bad stuff, and you're addicted," he said.

"I'm always careful, J," she said with a smile.

Jack was trying to think up a good line in response, a little flirty but not too forward, when Dr. Quinzel suddenly slipped flipping upside down to the next bar. She shrieked as her leg caught air, and then suddenly slipped through the harness, her whole body following it. She tumbled down toward the hard ground, screaming.

"I got you!" shouted Jack, racing underneath her as she fell. He managed to catch her, and she gazed at him, breathing heavily, her whole body shaking in terror. Jack gazed back, and then smiled.

"Guess you ain't always careful," he murmured.

She managed to smile back. "Thank…thank you for catching me," she said, gently climbing out of his arms.

"Anytime," he said. "Though I guess you owe me more than just coming to see my act now."

"What…do you suggest?" she asked, slowly.

"I dunno – I'll have to think about it," he said. She nodded, still stunned and shaking. "I'm just joking, Doc, and maybe I shouldn't after what just happened," said Jack. "People are always saying I should be more serious, and certainly after a potentially life-threatening accident…are you ok?"

"I'm fine," she said. "Perfectly fine, but…I think I'd like to go home now."

"Sure. Can I escort you?" he asked.

"That's not necessary – my car's just parked at Arkham," she said.

"Well, that's not far. I could walk you there," he said.

She nodded. "If you want."

Dr. Quinzel was understandably silent on the walk to Arkham, still shaken over her near death experience. But as she opened the door to her car, she took a deep breath and turned to Jack. "Thank you again for catching me, J," she said. "I…might not be alive now if not for you."

"In that case, it's probably the best thing I've ever done," said Jack.

She smiled, and then leaned forward and gently kissed his cheek. "Bye," she said.

"Goodbye, Dr. Quinzel," he said.

"Harley," she said, smiling at him. "It's Harley. That's what…my friends call me."

She smiled again and shut the door, then drove out of the parking lot. Jack waved after her, his heart leaping in his chest. "Harley," he murmured. "Thank God you're clumsy."


	9. Chapter 9

The next evening, Jack sang to himself as he applied his clown makeup: " _Now you could study Shakespeare and be quite elite, and you can charm the critics and have nothin' to eat, just slip on a banana peel, the world's at your feet - make 'em laugh, make 'em laugh, make 'em laugh!_ "

He whistled as he exited his trailer and headed into the big top. "Evening, Graysons!" he exclaimed, waving at them as they put on their harnesses. "Hope you fly well tonight! Like an eagle or a falcon or even a robin, huh, kid?" he asked, ruffling Dick's hair.

"Don't touch me!" snapped Dick, shoving his hand away.

"Dick, don't be rude!" snapped Mary. "You're certainly in a good mood tonight, J," she said, smiling at him.

"Well, I got a good feeling about my act tonight, Mary," said Jack. "I think I'm gonna have a very receptive audience. Mr. Haly was right about these Gotham audiences – they sure do love a clown!"

"Explains why they need a lunatic asylum here for the criminally insane," muttered John.

"Y'know, if I was in therapy for my marriage, I really wouldn't point fingers," retorted Jack. "But it's always nice talking to you, John – you remind me why I prefer to be alone."

"I'm glad you enjoy that, J, because you need to get used to being alone," retorted John. "I know Mary, for one, won't be hanging out with you anymore – she's reaffirmed her commitment to our relationship."

"Has she?" asked Jack. He was dying to wipe the smug smirk off John's face by telling him that Mary had snuck over to his trailer after John was asleep last night, but decided against it. "Well, that's great news," he said. "That must be one helluva shrink you've got."

"Yes, Dr. Quinzel is incredible," agreed John.

"Tell me about it," murmured Jack, peeking behind the backstage curtain and trying to spot Harley in the audience.

"We're on next, John – see you later, J," said Mary, as she and her husband and son scaled the ladder to the trapeze. Jack watched the act, privately thinking they were nowhere near as impressive as Harley had been. Thankfully, the act went off safely, and there was no repeat of yesterday's incident. Jack thought to himself that if somehow the Graysons had fallen, he would have been hard pressed to care enough to try to catch any of them.

"And now, ladies and gentlemen, allow me to introduce the funniest man in Gotham, who'll put a smile on your face whether you want it or not – the Joker!" announced Mr. Haly. Jack stepped out into the ring to rapturous applause. He spotted Harley in the front row, munching on some cotton candy and smiling at him. He bowed to the audience, and then turned away to bow to the backstage area. The audience laughed uproariously as his pants suddenly fell down, spraying water onto Mr. Haly, who was heading backstage. This was a new part of the act, and judging by Mr. Haly's face, he didn't much care for it, thought Jack with a smirk.

"Thank you, ladies and gentlemen!" exclaimed Jack, turning around and pulling his pants back up, after intentionally tripping over them a few times for laughs. "As Mr. Haly has said, I'm the Joker, here to ruin the tension you just got from watching the death-defying Flying Graysons by making you laugh yourselves to death. So in that way, I'm also a death-defying kinda guy. I won't say you'll literally bust a gut, but you might, so those of you with a weak gut should probably leave now…"

"Get on with it!" shouted a heckler from the audience. The others in the audience turned to glare at him and shush him, but Jack seemed unperturbed.

"I sure will get on with it, pal," said Jack. "How about we start with a little juggling?" he asked, pulling out three balls from his pocket and tossing them into the air. "You wanna count 'em for me, pal?" he asked, smiling at the guy in the audience. "One, two, three!" Jack exclaimed, throwing them at the heckler so that they just missed his head. The rest of the audience roared with laughter. "Now toss 'em back – it'll be like one of those carnival games where you're supposed to knock down the clown head to win a prize. C'mon, pal, knock my block off!" he exclaimed, spreading his arms.

The heckler obeyed, throwing the balls right at Jack. The audience ooed and awwed as Jack caught them in each hand, and then the third one in his mouth. He tossed the two balls in his hands up, and then spat out the third, and began juggling again, to enthusiastic applause.

"Thank you, ladies and gentlemen, and for my next trick, I'm gonna need a volunteer from the audience. What about you in the front?" he asked, pointing at Harley, who looked suddenly terrified as all eyes fell on her. She stood up slowly, coming over to him.

"What's your name, sweetheart?" he asked.

"Um…Harley," she murmured.

"You gotta speak up, kiddo – they can't hear you in the back with all the noise from people munching on peanuts," said Jack. "Must be why they call it the peanut gallery."

"My name is Harley," she repeated, louder.

"Pretty name for a pretty lady," said Jack. "Do you think you can help me with my act, Harley?"

"Uh…sure," she stammered.

"Ok, lemme tell you what I want you to do," he said. "I want you to stand perfectly still, and hold out your hands."

Harley obeyed, her hands shaking in nervousness. "And now I just need to put this handkerchief over your hands here," said Jack, pulling out a handkerchief, and then another, and another, in his series of infinite handkerchiefs, as the audience chuckled.

"Now I'm just gonna wave my hands over this unnecessary large pile of handkerchiefs, and say the magic word," said Jack. "Which is abracadabra or bibbidi bobbidi boo or something like that. Hey presto!" he exclaimed, ripping the handkerchief away from her hands to reveal a bouquet of roses. The audience applauded enthusiastically as Jack bowed, taking the flowers and then handing them back to Harley. "You keep 'em, toots, as a thank you," he said, gesturing her back to her seat with a grin. "And give her a round of applause, ladies and gentlemen!"

Harley flushed in embarrassment as she gave a nervous wave, and a small smile to Jack. "Now, ladies and gentlemen, I bet you're wondering about my smile," he said, gesturing to his oversized grin. "Well, you can have one just like it if I just let you in on a little secret. Who wants to hear it?"

Everyone cheered, and Jack approached a little girl who was sitting in the front row with her parents. "You got a nice smile, sweetie – can you keep a secret?" he asked.

She nodded. "Ok, here goes," he whispered, leaning forward and reaching into his jacket pocket. "The secret is...to take care of your teeth!" The girl shrieked and giggled in delight as a set of chattering teeth popped out of his pocket and landed in her lap. "Your real teeth, of course, brush and floss twice a day and you'll have a smile just like mine in no time!" he said. "But keep those for you to practice on, sweetheart. Now ladies and gentlemen, and especially children, please don't try this next trick at home," he said, lighting a match. "It's for professional fools only, and I do mean that literally. Now, I'm gonna say a statement, and you have to tell me whether you think it's the truth or a lie. Here goes: The Flying Graysons ain't the greatest acrobats in the world."

Everyone booed, and shouted, "Lie!" "That's right, ladies and gentlemen, that _is_ a lie," agreed Jack. "Here's another one: Gotham City is a town full of idiots!"

There was another round of booing and shouts of "Lie!" "Right again, ladies and gents," said Jack, nodding. "Which makes me a liar, liar, which means my pants must be on fire."

He put the lit match to his pants, which instantly went up in flames. Jack rushed around in mock pain for comedic effect, but he saw Harley looking at him in genuine concern, which made him want to drop the act and kiss her right there. But he resisted, ending the act by leaping into a blow up pool and sighing as the fire was put out, smoke billowing around him. "See why I said don't try this at home?" he asked, standing up. "You might not have a pool handy, and you go through a lotta pants." Everyone laughed again, pointing at the hole in his pants created by the fire. "And for my final trick, ladies and gentlemen, I need another volunteer. You, sir," he said, pointing at the heckler. "You wanna help with my act?"

The man shrugged, and Jack approached him, holding up a seltzer bottle and shaking it. "Ok, don't worry, this won't hurt," he said, pointing the bottle at the man. Everyone gasped, and then burst into hysterical laughter when the bottle backfired, hitting Jack square in the face. He feigned surprise, trying again to squirt the audience member, but hitting himself instead. "Stupid thing," he muttered, shaking it, which only caused it to backfire again, emptying its contents onto his face. Jack grimaced, stumbling back to the ring. "Need something to wash this off with – is this a towel?" he asked, pointing to a custard pie. Everyone giggled as he suddenly buried his face in it. "Guess so – tastes a little dry!" he exclaimed, removing his face with pie all over it. Everyone hooted and applauded as Jack dipped his face into the pool to rinse off the pie filling, blew some bubbles, and then turned to bow to the audience again. "Thank you, ladies and gentlemen – I am the Joker, and I bid you goodnight! Keep smiling, everyone!" he said, waving to the audience as he disappeared backstage to rapturous applause. He was particularly pleased to see Harley beaming at him, and applauding enthusiastically.

When he returned to the ring for his curtain call, he got another huge round of applause, louder than the Graysons, he thought smugly. He had been watching Harley from the wings as she politely applauded all the acts, but as he appeared, she stood up and began applauding vigorously, joined by most of the audience. Jack could feel the rest of the circus glaring at him, jealous of the popularity of his reception, but what could he say? Everybody loves a clown.


	10. Chapter 10

Jack returned to his trailer in high spirits to remove his makeup, and shortly after, there was a knock on his door. "Come in!" he called.

The door opened and he turned to see Harley standing there. "Harley, what a wonderful surprise," he said, standing up.

"I brought a friend who wants to say hi," said Harley, turning to gesture behind her. "Come on, don't be shy."

The little girl who had got the chattering teeth followed her inside, smiling shyly at Jack. "Mr. Joker, this is Barbara," said Harley. "She really, really liked your act. And she's not the only one," she added, smiling at him.

"Aw, thank you, Barbara, it's always nice to have fans," said Jack, kneeling down so he was level with her. "What was your favorite part of the act?"

She held up the teeth. "I figured – you want me to sign those for you?" he asked. "You can have a genuine Joker autograph – it'll be worth millions one day!"

She nodded enthusiastically. "Ok, lemme find a pen," he said, hunting around. "Here you go: To Barbara, keep smiling, love the Joker," he said, scribbling down an autograph. He handed the teeth back to the child, who gazed at it reverently.

She beamed up at him, and then whispered, "Thank you. I think…you're really, really funny."

"Well, that's the best compliment I'm ever gonna get, so I should just quit now," said Jack, smiling at her.

"No, don't quit, you're good!" exclaimed Barbara.

"It was just a joke, kid," he said, ruffling her red hair. "Come back and see me in the show sometime, huh?"

"I sure will!" she exclaimed. She gave him a big hug, and then skipped out of the trailer to rejoin her parents, babbling excitedly. Jack waved after her and then shut the door, leaving Harley and him alone.

"See, like I told you. Just a lotta silly crap," he said, smiling at her.

"That kid didn't think so," replied Harley. "And neither did I. I think you have a lot of talent. And it comes from a good place, wanting to make people laugh. Though I really wish you hadn't put me on the spot like that."

"Well, I wanted to give you flowers," he said. "And it wasn't so bad, was it?"

"No," she agreed. "I didn't have to do much."

"Well, next time I'll give you something real to do," he said. "Assuming you're gonna come see me again, of course."

"I shouldn't make a habit of taking advantage of your free ticket policy," she said, smiling.

"But you could be a permanent part of the act," he said. "My sidekick, Harley Quinn. I could teach you some tricks…"

"I don't think your boss would like it," said Harley.

"My boss doesn't like anything," retorted Jack. "Me included. This wouldn't bother him though, having someone help me out, just until we leave Gotham."

"I don't think I'd be any good at it," she said. "I'm real nervous in front of big crowds of people – I'd probably screw up your act somehow."

"Not if you practice," he said. "And hey, I'd always be there to catch you if you fall, you know that."

She smiled at him, looking around at the clown memorabilia around his trailer. "Well, what can you teach me as a beginner?" she asked.

"Well, you gotta start with the look," he said, gesturing to the makeup. "All white face, big bright smile. That's the most important thing."

"That doesn't sound too hard," she agreed, dipping her hand tentatively into the white makeup and spreading it around her face. "I won't use your lipstick…" she began.

"No, please," he said, handing it to her. "It's special clown lipstick so it's hard to remove. You have no idea how much I gotta scrub after a show."

She spread the lipstick onto her mouth, and then handed it back. "Ok, what's next?" she asked.

"Next we're gonna try some juggling," he said. "Here," he said, tossing a ball at her. "Just throw that up and catch it with one hand. Then we'll try two."

"I can't really do one," she said, tossing the ball up and missing it. She tried again, with the same result. "Not even if I use both hands," she added, trying that and failing again. After several more tries, she became frustrated. "Oh God, I can't do this!" she exclaimed. "I'm a natural klutz!"

"That can be good for slapstick," said Jack. "But juggling's all about control and concentration. Here, just keep your eye on the ball, watch closely, and catch it. It's not hard."

She obeyed, and finally managed to catch one ball in one hand. "Good, now let's add the second," said Jack.

"I can't…" she began.

"You gotta have confidence, kid – whoever heard of a doubting clown?" asked Jack. "Here, let me help," he said, coming up behind her and moving her wrists so that she managed to catch the balls. "There you go – control and concentration," he said, watching the balls, but his attention gradually shifted to her body, pressed to his. He could feel the beat of her heart against his chest, and every breath moved her body against his own…

"Yeah, you got it," he said, moving away suddenly before he could do something he'd regret. "See, nothing to it."

"I'm not even going to attempt three," she said, putting the balls down. "What else do I need to do to be your assistant?"

"Well, my act's got a lotta slapstick, as you saw," he said. "You gotta be able to take a hit and make it look natural, like with the seltzer bottle."

"Just as long as you don't actually hit me, or set me on fire," said Harley.

"They're stunt pants – I wasn't really in danger, though I did appreciate the concern," said Jack. "Slapstick's all fake violence, but I wouldn't even wanna fake hit you as a joke. We'll stick to the seltzer bottle for now," he said, picking it up. "You don't mind if I spray you?"

"Thanks for asking this time," she said, smiling. "You didn't last time I was here."

He grinned. "Ok, ready, and…don't flinch!" he exclaimed, spraying her in the face. She did flinch, sputtering and wiping the water out of her eyes. "Ok, you gotta exaggerate that," he said. "Your pain is funny to other people, always remember that, so make it big!"

"That's really not a healthy coping mechanism in terms of pain," said Harley.

"That's the shrink talking, and right now, you ain't a shrink – you're Harley Quinn," he said. "So what do you do when you get sprayed with water?"

She smiled. "That's right," he said. "Just smile."

"I think my makeup's running," she said, wiping her face.

"Just a little – it's waterproof," he said. "They expect clowns to do stupid things involving water and pies and whatever else. I told you, it takes me ages to get it all off at night. But maybe I should just leave it on – God knows it's an improvement on my normal appearance."

"I wouldn't say that," said Harley. "But it suits you."

"Yeah?" he asked. "Well…yours kinda suits you too, Harley Quinn."

She smiled, and Jack resolved to make his move. He cleared his throat. "Y'know, the makeup's even advertised as kiss proof, but I ain't tested that out," he said. "You think maybe I should?"

She smiled again, and Jack could see her cheeks flushing under her makeup. "I guess…you could try," she murmured, gazing at him.

"Yeah, I guess I could," he agreed. He brought his mouth down toward her lips, timidly parting for his. He gently captured her lips with his own, kissing her softly. He felt her lips press against his, growing less timid and more forceful as their mouths joined together. He pulled her into his arms, and her hands came around his neck, their kiss growing stronger.

They drew apart at last. "Guess it is kiss proof," he murmured, smiling as he traced her lips with his finger.

She beamed, and then threw her arms around his neck, kissing him again. "Mmm, far be it for me to refuse another test," he murmured, grinning as he planted kisses all over her face. "Need to be a bit more thorough though. For science."

She giggled, and sighed in delight as he kissed down her throat. "Mmm, no, J, don't," she said, drawing away as she felt him reaching for the button on her top. "I…I can't get involved with you like that."

"Why not?" he asked.

"Because you were…up until very recently…involved with one of my patients," she said. "It's not professional of me to have a romantic relationship with you."

"No, it's not," he agreed. "But if it makes you happy, why not do it? That's my motto."

"You are very persuasive for a clown," she murmured. "But I can't…no matter how much…I might want to…"

She trailed off as she continued to gaze at him, and then suddenly seized his face in her hands as an irresistible force drew their mouths together again.

The moment was ruined as the door to Jack's trailer suddenly opened. "I hope you're still in a good mood, big boy," said Mary, entering the trailer. She froze at the scene before her, and Harley quickly pulled away in astonishment.

"J, what's she doing here?" she asked, surprised.

"I could ask the same question," said Mary, folding her arms across her chest. "J, what's she doing here when you're meant to be all alone waiting for me?"

"J, is that true?" asked Harley, turning to him in shock.

"Harley, I promise, it's not what you think," said Jack. "She means nothing to me, only she threatened me when I tried to break up with her, so…"

"So he said we could continue to see each other as long as we're in Gotham," said Mary. "But of course I had no idea he intended to pursue other women, especially not my marriage therapist. But maybe I shouldn't be surprised – he's not a committed guy, after all, and for all I know, he probably just goes around seducing women without intending to commit to any of them."

"That's not true!" shouted Jack. "Harley, you have to listen to me, it's you I want to be with…"

"For now," finished Mary, nodding. "Until someone better comes along, like he did with me. That's the thing about J – he's incredibly charming and good at convincing you that you're the only girl in the world who matters to him. But it's all an act. And you saw in the show tonight how good he is at acting. I know now that's because that's all he does. And I, for one, can't trust a clown like that."

She turned and strode off. "Harley, please, listen…" began Jack.

"I have to go," said Harley, turning away from him and heading for the door.

"Harley, please, let me see you again…" he said, catching her hand.

"No, I don't think so," she said, ripping her hand away. She turned back to face him with tears trickling down her white face and over her painted smile. "I'm sorry, it was probably…my fault for leading you to believe that we had some chance of being together. But we don't. I'm a doctor and you're a clown and…it was stupid of me to trust a clown. Goodbye, Mr. Joker," she said, slamming the door.

Jack stared after her, feeling his heart breaking. And there was only one thing for it.

He began ransacking his trailer for a bottle of scotch, or any kind of alcohol really, but he had apparently run out. He swore loudly, and then threw on a coat and headed out of his trailer and away from the circus into Gotham City in search of a bar. It was stupid of him to expose himself like that, but Jack was past the point of caring. He was furious at Mary and at himself, he was heartbroken over Harley, and he was going to have a drink if it killed him.


	11. Chapter 11

Jack walked into the nearest dive he could find, and instantly liked how dark and deserted it was. He took a seat at the bar, and the bartender looked at him. "What are you supposed to be, some kinda clown?" he asked.

"Just give me a scotch on the rocks, and no lip," retorted Jack. "I ain't in the mood."

"Maybe you should stop smiling then," chuckled the bartender, pouring him a drink.

"You're a real comedian – we should switch jobs," said Jack, taking the drink from him and throwing some bills at him. "You could go out and make people laugh, and I could sit in this hole pouring drinks. But the way I'm feeling now, most of 'em would end up down my throat."

He chugged down the drink and slammed down the glass. "Another," he said.

The bartender obeyed, and Jack chugged this down again. He nursed his third glass, swirling around the ice cubes and trying to think of a way he could possibly rebuild things with Harley.

He was sipping his drink when he suddenly heard something that made his blood run cold: "Jack Napier."

He turned slowly to see a man smoking a cigarette and looking at him from a table in the corner. The man smiled and came over to him. "Jack Napier, I knew that was you behind that clown makeup."

"Tony Zucco," said Jack, relief rushing through him. He had been dreading one of his fellow mob colleagues, but Zucco wasn't that. Zucco was in fact a rival of his old boss, an up and coming gangster who had been hoping to replace one of the more established crime bosses with some fresh, young blood. He had offered Jack a job in his organization, a job Jack had politely turned down since his boss at the time had paid more. Plus Zucco hadn't had any money at that point, having not established himself yet. Jack didn't know if he had established himself now, but he was just happy to see someone non-threatening to him. "How's things?"

"Oh, can't complain," said Zucco, sitting down next to him. "Which is more than I can say for you. I heard you skipped town after Sal Valestra put a price on your head."

"Yeah, I did," agreed Jack. "But I got a job at this circus which decided to take me back to Gotham."

Zucco laughed. "From criminal to clown, huh?" he asked. "That's kinda tragic when you think about it."

"Actually, it ain't so bad," said Jack, shrugging. "Except for the makeup, of course," he said, taking another swig from his drink.

"Well, something's bothering you, and if it ain't the clown thing or the price on your head, I can only guess it's a woman," said Zucco. "That's the only thing that drives a man to drink like that."

"Got it in one," agreed Jack.

"So what happened?" asked Zucco, offering him a cigarette. "The snake charmer lady stop wanting to charm your snake?"

"It's kinda more complicated than that," retorted Jack, taking the cigarette from him. Zucco lit it, and Jack blew out a cloud of smoke. "Suffice it to say that she was the girl of my dreams, and now I've lost her. All because I got involved with a married acrobat."

"Well, I can certainly understand the appeal of an acrobat," said Zucco, puffing on his own cigarette. "All that flexibility. But married women are more trouble than they're worth. Especially if they got kids."

"Yeah, she's got a real little brat," agreed Jack. "Who thinks I'm some kinda monster, for some reason. He's called Dick, which is appropriate."

Zucco laughed. "You always were a funny guy, Jack," he said. "I'd guess you'd make a pretty good clown. Maybe I'll come see your act sometime."

"Yeah, you should," agreed Jack. "I'm at Haly's Circus, on the outskirts of town near Arkham."

"Arkham," repeated Zucco thoughtfully. "Scotch for me too, and another for my friend," he said, signaling to the bartender. "That's nobody's territory out there, is it?" he asked.

"I don't think so – there's nothing out there to fight over," said Jack. "It's just a field and a hospital for crazies. You can't make money outta that."

"No," agreed Zucco. "But maybe you could take protection money out of whoever uses the field. A circus, for instance."

Jack snorted. "You wanna lean on Mr. Haly, you be my guest. He's a bastard, and he deserves to be cheated outta everything he's got."

"I never cheat, Jack, I just demand a fair price for fair use of my property," said Zucco. "Fairness, that's the name of the game with me. If people pay up, they don't get hurt – that's fair, right?"

"Sure is, Tony," said Jack, raising his glass. "To fairness."

"To opportunities," said Zucco, chinking his glass against his. They both drank.

"I don't suppose the price on my head has gone down at all?" asked Jack at last.

Zucco shook his head. "Nah, Valestra's still really steamed at you," he said. "Especially since he got banged up in jail."

"He's in jail?" repeated Jack.

"Yeah," said Zucco, nodding. "Your civilian kills really made the cops wanna put the gang behind bars. And they did, with some help from the new DA - Harvey Dent, a real clean up the city kinda guy. It's hard for an honest criminal to keep a racket running these days, between him and the Batman."

"What the heck is the Batman?" asked Jack.

Zucco shrugged. "Nobody knows. Some freak who goes around in a bat costume beating people up. But not any people – just criminals. The people of this town are taking him to heart, like some kinda symbol, instead of the vigilante nutcase he so obviously is."

Jack snorted, puffing on his cigarette. "I was right when I said Gotham was a town full of idiots," he muttered. "Set my pants on fire for nothing. Batman - Jesus, whatever will they think of next?"

"The rumor is the Batman and the cops and the DA are all working together, unofficially, of course," said Zucco. "And it seems to be working – Valestra got taken down, then the Panessa crime family, and now Falcone and Maroni are running scared. There's a void to fill in the underworld, and it's a prime time for an up and coming crime boss to shine."

"Well, good luck to you, Tony," said Jack. "I mean it."

"I don't need luck, Jack – it's time for my star to rise, I can feel it," said Zucco. "And when it does, that offer of a job for you is still available. I could use a guy of your skills, and I might be able to make that price on your head go away. Would you be interested?"

Jack nodded. "Anything to get me outta that circus. My days as a clown are numbered!" he chuckled, sipping from his glass.

"That's the spirit!" said Zucco, clapping him on the back. "And trust me, Jack, when you're working for Tony Zucco, king of Gotham City, the dames will fall at your feet, all of 'em. You can have your pick of all the attractive broads in this city, so don't feel bad about losing this girl. There's a better one out there, trust me."

Jack shook his head slowly. "I don't think so, Tony. You don't know her. She's just…the whole package. Knockout gorgeous, smart, talented, funny, if she ever gets a chance to show it. I just can't imagine a better woman, or a more perfect one for me."

"Well, maybe she'll change her mind about you once you're a successful gangster again," said Zucco. "I mean, no dame's gonna go gaga over a clown, but over a criminal? Dames just love a bad guy – it's some primal instinct they got. Tough, strong, violent men turn 'em on – they're crazy like that."

"I don't think Harley's crazy," said Jack. He raised his glass again. "But here's hoping."


	12. Chapter 12

The next day, Jack woke up in his trailer with a splitting headache. The pain blocked out all other memories of the previous evening as he sat up, groaning and stumbling to the sink for a glass of water. It didn't help much, nor did the shower, but the hot water pounding on his skull gradually brought back the memories of last night, and the pain of Harley rejecting him, and the fury at Mary for what she had done. He got dressed and headed out of his trailer to see if she was at breakfast, and to have strong words with her if she was.

But she wasn't – none of the Graysons were, which was in some ways a relief, thought Jack. At least they wouldn't give him more of a headache.

"Where are the Graysons this morning?" he asked Leo the Lion Tamer.

"In therapy with the shrink," retorted Leo, nodding at their trailer. "You're not invited."

"Yeah, I wouldn't expect to be," retorted Jack. He took a bowl of oatmeal and sat down by the fire, hoping food would help with the hangover. A moment later, he heard shouting from the Grayson's trailer, and then the door banged open and John stormed out, straight toward him.

"You son of a bitch!" he roared, throwing a punch at Jack. Jack was caught off guard and hungover, and was too slow to react to the punch, which swung across his nose. Jack felt it crack, and felt blood pouring out, as he dropped the bowl of oatmeal to cup his nose.

"What the hell?" he demanded, but John took another swing at him. Jack managed to intercept his fist this time, and struck a blow of his own across John's face.

"Hit him again, Daddy!" shouted Dick, who was watching from the trailer, while Mary and Harley both raced out.

"John, stop it! Stop!" shouted Mary, trying to pull him away, but John knocked her back, resuming his attack on Jack. Soon they were in a full scale fight, where Jack was clearly the better fighter. He managed to knock John to the ground, and then began punching him repeatedly in the head as both Harley and Mary yelled at them both to stop.

Harley raced forward to pull Jack off, but Dick beat her to it, racing toward Jack and striking him in the head. "Let go of my Daddy!" he shrieked.

Jack turned around and in a blind rage suddenly backhanded Dick in the face, knocking him to the ground. Mary screamed, rushing to cuddle Dick, while Harley grabbed Jack around the waist to try to pull him away. "J, stop!" she shrieked. "Get off of him!"

"He started it!" shouted Jack, wiping the blood from his face. "He attacked me for no reason!"

"Not no reason, you sick bastard!" shouted John, struggling to his feet. "You've been screwing my wife against her will! She told you to leave her alone, but you don't take no for an answer! She just wants to rebuild her marriage with her family, but you won't let her go!"

"Oh, is that what she told you?" shouted Jack. "Because she's a liar! I ended it, and she came back to me begging me to take her back! Believe me, I was never the one who started the affair, and I'm always the one trying to end it! I don't want her, so keep her the hell away from me in future or I'll kill her!"

"You're a monster!" screamed Mary, cradling Dick. "You hit my child!"

"Yes, I am a monster!" shouted Jack. "Is everyone happy now that that's confirmed?! I admit it – I'm a bad, evil human being who's done lots of bad, evil things! You can all hate me with good reason now! All of you," he added, looking at Harley.

He stormed off to his trailer without another word, washing the blood off of his face. There was a knock on his door, and he hoped against hope that it was Harley.

But it wasn't. It was Leo the Lion Tamer, who just said, "Mr. Haly wants to see you."

Jack sighed. "Here we go," he muttered, heading out of his trailer toward Mr. Haly's.

"Sit down, J," said Mr. Haly, gesturing to a chair. Jack obeyed, and Mr. Haly just looked at him. "You had an affair with another man's wife, you beat that man to a bloody pulp, and you hit his eight-year-old son," he said, calmly.

"Just fire me, Mr. Haly, and get on with it," snapped Jack.

"I'm not going to fire you," retorted Mr. Haly. "Not yet. The audiences here love you for some reason, and I think I'd suffer a big loss of profits if you just suddenly left. But we are leaving Gotham in two weeks, and after that, you're going to need to find another job. In this town or somewhere else, I don't care, but I don't ever want to see you again after that. And for the rest of your time here, you don't put one toe out of line, or I will be reporting you to the police for assault. Do I make myself clear?"

"Yes, Mr. Haly," muttered Jack.

A knock came on the door. "Come in," called Mr. Haly.

The door opened and Tony Zucco entered the trailer. "Hope I'm not interrupting anything," he said. "I'm looking for Mr. Haly."

"You've found him," said Mr. Haly. "Who are you?"

"The name's Tony Zucco, Mr. Haly," said Zucco, extending his hand. "And you happen to be camped on my property."

"Really?" asked Mr. Haly. "I'm pretty sure this property belongs to the city of Gotham, and I have a permit from them with permission to camp here."

"Well, I'm sorta the unofficial owner," said Zucco, shrugging. "I only recently acquired this land, in fact, and while I have absolutely no issue with you using it, I'm afraid I'm going to have to ask for a financial contribution if you wish to remain on the site."

Mr. Haly's eyebrows narrowed. "And what makes you think I'm going to give you any money?" he demanded.

"Well, if you don't, something might happen to your little circus here," said Zucco. "Something not very nice. And that would be such a shame, wouldn't it? For your own protection, I'd recommend doing what I ask."

"Listen, you low life scum, I don't tolerate threats from criminals!" roared Mr. Haly, standing up. "You get the hell outta my trailer and away from camp! And if I ever see your face around here again, I'll get my animal trainer to set the lions on you, do you understand?!"

"There's no need for violence, Mr. Haly," murmured Zucco, quietly. "At least, not on your part. Just don't say I didn't warn you."

He left the trailer, and Mr. Haly turned his attention back to Jack. "You too, get the hell out," he muttered. "I'm sick of dealing with low lifes today."

Jack obeyed, leaving the trailer. He saw Zucco standing not far off, observing the camp. Jack came over to him. "What are you going to do, Tony?" he asked.

"Dunno yet," said Zucco, lighting a cigarette. "But I'm sure I'll think of something. He needs to know I mean business, after all, and that I don't make idle threats."

Jack nodded. He could see Dick glaring at him from the window of the Graysons trailer, and took a deep breath. "I'll leave you to it – gotta go apologize to some people," he muttered, heading toward the trailer.

He knocked on the door. "Go away, J!" shrieked Mary from inside.

"Mary, I just want to say I'm sorry!" shouted Jack. "To Dick and to your husband…I shouldn't have lost my temper like that!"

"Dr. Quinzel, make him go away!" shrieked Mary.

The door opened, and Harley stood there. "Mr. Joker, we're trying to have our session which was rudely interrupted earlier," she murmured.

"Yeah, by John Grayson, who punched me in the face," said Jack, nodding. "But that's no excuse for violence on my part, especially not toward Dick, and I want to tell him I'm sorry…"

"He doesn't want to talk to you," said Harley. "Nobody does."

She was about to shut the door when Jack caught it. "Harley, please," he begged. "I…I'm sorry for everything that's happened, everything I've done…I've…made a mess of everything from the moment I arrived here. I should have been honest with you and everyone from the start, but it seemed like lying was the only way to spare everybody's feelings. But it's more trouble than it's worth, and it's wrong, I know that now. It's always wrong. But…nothing I ever said to you was a lie. I think you're the most incredible woman in the world, and I won't be able to be happy or even act happy ever again if I can't be around you anymore. The truth is…I love you," he blurted out.

Harley stared at him, looking more shocked than she had been the previous evening. "J…I can't believe that…" she stammered.

"You have to believe it, because it's true," he said. "Can't you see that I'm telling the truth?! Look at me, Harley!"

She shook her head slowly. "I told you…I can't get involved…with someone who was involved with my patient. I just can't violate my ethics like that…even if I do believe you. Now please let me return to my session," she said, shutting the door on him.

"Tough luck," commented Zucco, as Jack slowly trudged back to him. "She's cute."

"She's more than cute," retorted Jack, taking the cigarette Zucco offered him. "Unfortunately she's also principled. Oh well," he sighed, as Zucco lit it. "That's that, then. Might as well resign myself to a life without her. Like you said, there are plenty of other women out there. And if she won't get involved with people who were involved with her patients, there's not much I can do. So I just gotta accept it."

He hoped he sounded sincere – it was honestly a huge struggle having to pretend to be casual and unconcerned about this, when his heart was ripping in two. He had never felt anything like this pain before, which is how he knew it must be love.

"I guess," agreed Zucco, blowing out a cloud of smoke. He was silent for a few moments. "But what if they weren't her patients anymore?"

"You mean after she fixes their marriage?" asked Jack. "I dunno if that's gonna be possible – you don't know how crazy the Graysons are. She'd have to be a miracle worker, and it'll probably be a helluva wait."

Zucco said nothing, clapping him on the shoulder. "You just leave it to me, Jack," he said. "I'm always happy to help a buddy out. You just do your clown thing and try not to worry about a thing."

"Easier said than done," muttered Jack. "It's gonna be the performance of a lifetime to force a smile after this."

"I have perfect faith in you, Jack," said Zucco. "See you later," he said, heading off and smiling to himself at the thought of killing two birds with one stone.


	13. Chapter 13

"I'm sorry for the interruption, Mr. and Mrs. Grayson," said Harley, after she shut the door on J. Mary was flitting between fussing over Dick to fussing over John. "But hopefully the Joker won't bother us anymore."

"I'm so sorry, John," said Mary. "I'm so sorry I ever had anything to do with a brute like that."

"It wasn't your fault, Mary," said John, taking her hand. "He forced you. You shouldn't feel bad about anything that happened."

"Did he force you, Mrs. Grayson?" asked Harley, looking at her.

"Of course he did – you heard him, he admitted he was a monster," said John, before Mary could reply. "Which means he's the lowest kind of man."

"Mrs. Grayson?" pressed Harley. "Remember, honesty is the most important thing in any relationship."

Mary shook her head slowly. "He didn't…he didn't force me," she murmured. "I…I wanted him. The thought…that I was doing something bad and wrong was just…intoxicating and irresistible. I'd never done something like that before, I'd been a good wife and a good mother and I guess I just…snapped. I married young and…had a child without ever really…acting irresponsibly. So I guess I just had to try out what that felt like. But it wasn't worth it," she said, squeezing John's hand. "Nothing was worth risking my marriage and my family for. I know that now. And I'll never do anything like it again."

John stared at her. "Mary, I…don't know what to say," he murmured. "How could you do this to me and to Dick?"

"John, it wasn't about either of you," she said. "I wasn't thinking about either of you…I acted selfishly. And I can understand if you can't forgive me for what I've done. I'm willing to…face up to the consequences of my actions."

John shook his head. "I won't deny that I'm angry and upset, but…I won't break up our act, and more importantly, our family over it. We need you, Mary. Dick and I need you back and acting like your old self."

"I will from now on, John, I swear," said Mary.

"Well…it may take some time for us to rebuild what we had," said John. "But I'm willing to try."

"Me too," said Mary, smiling at him. She kissed him tenderly, and he hugged her. She held out her arms to her son, who raced into them, and the whole family embraced.

"I'm very proud of you all," said Harley. "This is a huge step forward. With time and willingness, I'm sure you can rebuild trust, and once you have that, you have a meaningful, healthy relationship."

"I trust John with my life every night," said Mary, smiling at him. "I know he'll never let me fall."

Harley's heart wrenched as she was reminded of J. "Well, it's…good to have someone like that in your life," she murmured, looking down at her notes. The truth was, she had believed J when he had told her he was in love with her. And the fact that Mary had admitted that she had lied about him forcing her made everything she said suspect. J might have been telling the truth when he said she had threatened him if they didn't carry on with their relationship. Or Mary might have been lying when she said J was expecting her that night. Harley didn't know who to trust, and while J was certainly a violent man with a short temper, as he had shown today, she wasn't sure that he was a liar. And if he wasn't, then he did love her. And for some reason, despite his flaws, that mattered a lot to her. She couldn't imagine that she was in love with him in return, but the fact that he was made her indescribably happy.

"It looks like my work here is done," she said, forcing a smile. "You've taken the first big steps toward rebuilding your marriage, and while I'd be happy to guide you, the real work is up to you."

"We can't thank you enough, Dr. Quinzel," said John, turning to her. "You must allow us to repay you somehow."

"That's not necessary – it was my pleasure," said Harley.

"Will you come and see us fly?" asked Dick.

"Yes, the least we can do is repay you with a show," said John. "We'll give you a performance you'll remember for a lifetime, I guarantee it. We're changing up the act so we're not using safety harnesses – there's gonna be nothing but the hard ground between us and a fifty foot drop."

"That sounds really dangerous," said Harley. "I used to do acrobatics myself, and I definitely wouldn't be brave enough to try that."

"It's not about bravery – it's about trust, like you said," said Mary. "We as a family trust each other not to let each other fall. That's what family's all about. I see that now."

She kissed her husband again. "I love you," she said, sincerely.

"I love you too," he said, kissing her.

"See? Doesn't that sound much better coming from your husband instead of some clown?" asked Harley.

"J never said 'I love you' to me," retorted Mary. "I don't think he's the kind of man who can feel that. And I obviously didn't love him, as love is about self-sacrifice and bringing out the best in each other. He brought out the selfishness in me, and I brought out that evil thing that attacked my husband and child."

"We should go to the police," said John. "Get him put behind bars for assault – it's the best place for him."

"Well, technically he could say it was self-defense and implicate you," said Harley. "You did attack him first, after all."

"With good reason," said John. "I was defending my wife."

"I'm not sure the police will see it that way," said Mary. "Let's keep the law out of it, John, and try to let it go and move forward with our life together, which J will be no part of. The best revenge against him is being a happy family again."

Harley remembered how J had told her that he wanted them to be a happy family again, and wondered if that was a lie. But then he had never told Mary he loved her, so maybe he was more honest than she thought.

"I think the best way to celebrate is by taking us all out for lunch," said John. "Please do join us, Dr. Quinzel – it'll be our treat."

"That sounds lovely," said Harley. But all through lunch, she found herself strangely unhappy. She should be very pleased, both for the Graysons and for herself for making such excellent progress with them. But she found their smiling faces and laughing conversation very tedious, and wished she had refused the offer of lunch. For some reason, she just didn't feel in a celebratory mood.

After lunch, the Graysons headed off to practice their new routine. They invited Harley to see the show that night, but she politely refused – she knew she could never fake her enthusiasm, and besides, she couldn't bear to see J right now.

"You will come see the new act soon though, won't you, Dr. Quinzel?" asked Dick.

"Yes, Dick, I will," she said. "You pick a night, and I'll be there."

"Tomorrow!" exclaimed Dick.

She laughed. "All right, tomorrow," she said. She was sure she would be over her mood after a good night's sleep anyway. "Good luck with your new routine," she said. "Break a leg, is that what you say in show business?"

"Not when you're acrobats – don't wanna jinx it," said John, smiling.

Harley forced a laugh. "True. Well, have a good show."

"Thank you, Dr. Quinzel," said Mary, hugging her. "For everything."

The family happily headed off to the big top, hand in hand. Harley watched them go, and then headed back toward Arkham. She passed J's trailer and hesitated, wondering if she should knock on the door and talk to him. But she had no idea what she would say, or what she could say, since she wasn't at all sure of what she was feeling.

She thought better of the idea and returned to Arkham, where she tried to focus on some overdue paperwork. But she couldn't focus on anything – her thoughts were all over the place, wondering if she could trust J. After a few hours, she gave up and headed for her car. Sleep would fix everything, she assured herself.

"Dr. Quinzel!" exclaimed a voice. She turned to see a little girl racing toward her, the girl from last night when she had seen J's act.

"Barbara, hi!" she said, hugging her. "What are you doing here?"

"We just came from the circus," said Barbara, pointing. "Mommy and Daddy parked the car up here because it's a free parking lot, and the circus charges money to use theirs. But it's a long walk up a hill and I ran ahead because they're slow."

"I see," said Harley. "Well, how was the circus?"

"It was awful," said Barbara, frowning. "The Joker was really, really sad."

"Sad?" repeated Harley. "Why?"

"I dunno," said Barbara, shrugging. "But he wasn't really smiling. He just acted sad, and none of his jokes were that funny, and nobody laughed which just made him sadder. I tried to see him after the show to ask why he was sad, but he didn't answer the door. And now I'm sad too."

She wiped some tears from her eyes, sniffing and looking up at Harley. "You're a doctor. Do you think you can fix what's wrong with him and help the Joker be happy again?"

Harley stared at her. "I…I don't know, Barbara," she said.

"Could you try?" asked Barbara. "Please? It's just the saddest thing in the world, seeing the Joker without his smile. Please help him, Dr. Quinzel."

She sniffed again. "I'll try, Barbara," Harley said at last.

"You promise?" asked Barbara.

"I promise," said Harley, nodding. "I'm seeing the show tomorrow night, and if he's still sad during his act…I'll talk to him afterward and see if I can help him."

"Thank you, Dr. Quinzel!" said Barbara, beaming and hugging her. "I know you'll be able to help him! He really likes you – you can tell from the way he smiled at you during the show and after. If anyone can help him find that smile again, it's you."

"I hope you're right, Barbara," said Harley. "I really do."


	14. Chapter 14

Jack was carefully applying his clown makeup in the mirror the next evening, a frown firmly on his face as he painted a smile over it, when there was a knock on the door to his trailer.

"Come in," he said.

Tony Zucco opened the door, beaming. "Jack, you can buy me a drink after the show tonight," he said.

"Why?" asked Jack. "What's the occasion?"

"Well, I think my little business venture with Mr. Haly is going to prove very successful after tonight," said Zucco, taking a seat opposite him. "I think he'll be forced to reconsider my proposition."

"If you're thinking about doing anything illegal, you picked a bad night for it," said Jack. "Mr. Haly's talked some bigwigs into coming to the show tonight – Bruce Wayne, Harvey Dent, the police commissioner and probably some of his officers. I'm not worried about being recognized under the makeup – I've been outta Gotham long enough for my face to have slipped from their memory anyway. But sticking up the circus or whatever you have in mind is a really stupid idea tonight."

"I'm a more subtle guy than that, Jack," said Zucco, lighting up a cigarette. "And frankly, I'm glad you got a good audience tonight. The more publicity this gets, the better."

"Sal Valestra would tell you that the last thing a criminal needs is publicity," retorted Jack.

"Well, Sal Valestra didn't need to make a name for himself," said Zucco. "Anyway, I'll be gone before anything happens. But after it does, I'll let some rumors casually slip that I'm the guy behind it, and pretty soon, people will know not to mess with me or my associates. You should be pleased – I picked the target out specially for you."

"Who's the target?" asked Jack, returning to his makeup.

"Your favorite family, the Flying Graysons," chuckled Zucco, puffing on his cigarette.

"I think blackmailing them over their marriage problems is pretty low, Tony," said Jack. "That's not the kinda reputation you wanna get as an up and coming criminal."

"Oh, it ain't blackmail, Jack," said Zucco. "It's something much better. Something that'll make more of a splash, or more of an impact, I guess," he chuckled.

"What are you talking about?" asked Jack, confused.

Zucco chuckled madly. "I partially sawed through the rope holding up one of the trapezes. The Flying Graysons will be flying for a few swings, and then bam!" he said, stubbing his cigarette out. "The circus will be looking for a new act, and your girl will be rid of her patients. You can thank me with a drink, like I said."

Jack stared at him in disbelief. "You…did what?" he stammered.

"I told you, I partially sawed through the rope…" began Zucco.

"Are you insane?!" demanded Jack, standing up. "You can't kill them!"

"Why not?" asked Zucco, puzzled. "You said your shrink girl won't date people involved with her patients, and if they're dead, they ain't her patients no more. Plus you said the whole family was a real pain in the ass, so it's no loss. And this way Mr. Haly will know I'm serious about that protection money…"

"I don't want them dead, Tony!" shouted Jack. "There's a kid involved, for Christ's sake! You can't just kill a kid!"

"Jack, I think all that clowning around has made you go soft," said Zucco. "We're criminals, and killing people is what we do if they get in our way. That's all part of the job. It's just business, after all."

Jack said nothing, hurrying toward the door of his trailer. "Where are you going?" asked Zucco. "Jack! It's too late – they're on in a few minutes! You can't stop it now! Jack!"

Jack ignored him, racing across the camp toward the big top, his heart pounding in his chest. He heard the noise of the appreciative audience applauding Leo the Lion Tamer, and he knew the Graysons were on next.

He burst backstage, looking around frantically for them, and spotted them climbing up the ladder. "Mary, John, Dick, stop!" he shouted. "Don't go up there!"

They either didn't hear him or ignored him, and Jack ran toward the ladder, intending to follow them and drag them down. "What the hell do you think you're doing, J?" demanded Mr. Haly, intercepting him.

"Mr. Haly, the Graysons can't go on!" gasped Jack. "The trapeze isn't safe!"

"Of course it is – I just checked it this afternoon," retorted Mr. Haly.

"No, it's been cut!" exclaimed Jack. "They're going to fall, and they're going to die!"

"Who cut it?" demanded Mr. Haly.

"It doesn't matter – just get them down now!" shouted Jack.

"This wouldn't be some petty revenge of yours, would it?" asked Mr. Haly. "The Graysons are a happy family again, so you make them cancel their act so they don't upstage you like they did with their incredible and your abysmal performance last night? Or is it just some sick joke of yours?"

"Mr. Haly, I swear, this isn't revenge, and it isn't a joke!" exclaimed Jack. "You've got to stop them, or get a net, or…"

"So it is an upstage thing," said Mr. Haly, nodding. "You want to ruin their act by adding a net, and taking away the suspense. That's just pathetic, J. The sooner you're out of here, the better," he said, heading out to announce the Graysons.

Jack looked around desperately for a net or something that could prevent the tragedy he could feel about to happen. But there was nothing he could do. He couldn't catch the Graysons if they all fell together – he'd be crushed. And if Mr. Haly didn't believe him, nobody else would either.

He glanced out to the audience, and saw Bruce Wayne sitting and laughing with Harvey Dent and Police Commissioner James Gordon. And then he saw someone else that made his blood run cold.

"Harley!" he gasped. "No, no, no, this can't be happening…"

But it was, and it did. He saw the spotlight come up on the Graysons. There was cheering from the audience as John Grayson leapt forward and grabbed the trapeze. He swung back and held out his arms for his wife, who leaped forward to grab his hands…

And then the rope snapped. Mary and John plummeted toward the ground as the crowd gasped, and then all sound stopped and time slowed as the two fell down, down, down…

Jack had shut his eyes before the impact, and for a moment afterward, there was silence again. And then there was screaming and shrieking as the circus performers rushed onto the scene, and the audience panicked. Through the mass of people, Jack's eyes fixed on Harley, who sat stunned for a moment, and then stood up, racing toward the ladder to comfort Dick, who was standing on the platform high above, staring down at the scene in shock.

Mr. Haly straightened up from examining the bodies – it was obvious from a brief glance that John and Mary Grayson were dead, and nothing more could be done for them. With a silent, stony face, he suddenly announced, "Send in the clown."

"J, you're on!" hissed someone, prodding Jack.

Jack nodded slowly. Making disaster into laughter – that was his job. That was the clown's job when something went wrong – to somehow find the funny side of tragedy.

"Well…quite the memorable show we got tonight!" he exclaimed, appearing on stage. "Positively breathtaking, huh? Y'know, at times like these, you just gotta…try to see the funny side. Like…like how this whole thing maybe coulda been avoided if one tiny little thing had somehow gone differently. That's life though – a series of tiny things going wrong until you get one big tragedy. So what can you do? Well, I'll tell you, ladies and gentlemen – you can laugh. That's all anyone can do when faced with the cruel absurdity of the world. They gotta laugh."

And the Joker did, while the Graysons bodies were covered with a sheet and dragged off. He laughed while Harley comforted Dick, who didn't stop sobbing. And he laughed as Bruce Wayne looked up at the eight-year-old orphan, remembering a night long ago in a dark, deserted alleyway.


	15. Chapter 15

Needless to say, the rest of the show was canceled as the police began their investigation. Jack sat on one of the benches, smoking a cigarette and occasionally glancing up at Harley, who had her arm around Dick as he gave his witness statement to the police commissioner.

Jack suddenly felt a shadow fall over him, and looked up to see Mr. Haly. "How did you know that rope was cut?" he asked, quietly.

"Does it matter?" asked Jack, puffing on his cigarette. "It's too late to do anything about it now."

"Of course it matters, you stupid clown!" shouted Mr. Haly, seizing him by the collar. "John and Mary Grayson are dead, and you knew it was going to happen! Either admit responsibility or tell me who's responsible!"

"You, Mr. Haly!" snapped Jack. "I tried to warn them, and you, but you refused to listen to me. I hope you've told the cops that. It's your fault they're dead."

"You horrible, despicable son of a bitch!" roared Mr. Haly, raising his fist.

"Mr. Haly, please, this isn't helpful," said Bruce Wayne, intercepting his fist suddenly. "This boy's just lost his parents – the last thing he needs to see is more violence."

"Is he going to be ok?" asked Jack, as Dick broke down in tears again.

"I don't know," said Bruce. "But he needs someone to look after him."

"We'll look after him, Mr. Wayne," said Mr. Haly. "We're all a family here."

"Not all of us," muttered Jack. Bruce headed over to where Harvey Dent and Commissioner Gordon were talking to Dick, and Jack followed, hoping to speak to Harley.

"Kid says he saw a stranger back here earlier," said Gordon, turning to Dent. "Some guy who was skulking around the other day who might have cut the rope…"

"He was talking to him!" shouted Dick, throwing a finger at Jack suddenly. "He killed my parents!"

Everyone turned to look at Jack. "Are you sure, son?" asked Gordon, gently.

"I saw them talking together yesterday!" shouted Dick. "And then I saw the other guy leave as we entered the big top! They planned to kill them together!"

"Why would they do that, son?" asked Gordon.

"Because he's a bad man," hissed Dick, glaring at Jack. "He made my mother do bad things, and he beat up my father, and he hit me! He's a monster, and a murderer!"

Jack felt all eyes on him, and he looked at Harley. He couldn't tell what she was thinking, but he couldn't imagine it was anything favorable. "Can we take your name, sir?" Gordon asked Jack, flipping a page in his notebook.

"The Joker," replied Jack, blowing out a cloud of smoke.

"Your real name," said Gordon, glaring at him.

"That's all the name I got," retorted Jack. "Take it or leave it, comish."

"Think you're funny, huh?" asked Gordon. "All right, wise guy, you're gonna accompany us to the station and answer our questions there. Boys, arrest him," he said, beckoning some officers forward.

"I wouldn't do that if I were you, boys," said Jack, with a grin. "The Joker always has a few tricks up his sleeve."

"Now!" snapped Gordon, and the officers approached Jack, who suddenly sprayed water from pouches hidden in his sleeves right into their faces. While they sputtered and wiped their eyes, Jack made a break for it, racing back towards his trailer.

He threw open the door to see that Zucco had gone, which was all the better for him. Jack would have killed him personally if he had still been there – thanks to him, the cops were after him, and Jack knew if he got arrested, they would identify him as Jack Napier and send him to prison. And Jack knew he would never survive prison incarcerated with Sal Valestra – Sal would send someone to shank him in the kidneys his first day, if Sal didn't do it personally. And that was if Jack was lucky.

Jack hastily seized any money he had, and then threw open a drawer and rummaged around it for his gun, which he had hidden when he arrived at the circus. He would definitely be needing it out on the streets of Gotham.

He heard the door to his trailer open and whirled around, pointing the gun at the intruder. But he was stunned to see that it was Harley, who stared down the barrel of the gun in shock.

"Harley, what are you doing here?" he asked, lowering it instantly.

"I told the cops I saw you heading in the opposite direction," she said. "It'll stall them for a bit, but they'll be here soon. And I had to see you before they arrived. I had to know…" She trailed off.

"What?" he asked.

She looked at him. "Did…did you kill them?" she asked.

"No, Harley, I didn't," he said. "I told Mr. Haly what was gonna happen, and I tried my best to stop it from happening. But he didn't believe me. But I wasn't the one who cut those ropes, and I didn't want it to happen. You have to believe that."

She studied him. "I do," she said, slowly. "But you know who did kill them, don't you?"

He nodded. "Look, I can't get arrested," he said, heading toward the door. "Thanks for the decoy, but I gotta get outta here before they find me."

"Why can't you get arrested?" she asked.

"Because of that past I don't wanna talk about," he retorted.

"Where will you go?" she asked.

"I dunno – somewhere," he said, shrugging. "Somewhere where a clown won't raise a lotta questions – ain't got time to remove the makeup right now, but I gotta disappear. It was nice meeting you, toots – have a nice life," he said, pushing past her.

She caught his hand. "If you know who killed them…you need to tell me. Whoever it is needs to face justice."

"I ain't ratting him out," retorted Jack. "I'm no squealer. But ask Mr. Haly – he probably has a pretty good idea who it was. Now I really gotta go…"

She kept her grip on his hand, and then reached into her pocket and pulled out her car keys, pressing them into his hand. "My car's parked at Arkham – you remember what it looks like from the other day?"

He nodded. "Yeah, but…"

"Hide in there and wait for me," she said. "You can stay at my place. I'll drive us home after the cops are through questioning Dick."

He stared at her. "But Harley…why…I don't understand…"

She said nothing, but suddenly pressed her lips to his in a tender kiss. "I don't either," she whispered, drawing away. "But I can't let you get caught, and I can't let you go. Now run, J."

He obeyed, dashing out of his trailer and keeping to the shadows of the camp as he headed toward the hill which led to Arkham. He was on the run from the law, he was stuck hiding in a car for a good few hours, and he was once again unemployed. But despite all that, and despite the fact that he had witnessed two horrible deaths tonight, for some reason, Jack couldn't stop smiling.


	16. Chapter 16

It was several hours later when Harley returned to her car. "How's Dick?" asked Jack, sitting up in the backseat.

"How do you think he is after witnessing something like that?" she asked, taking the keys he handed back to her. "He's completely devastated. But Bruce Wayne expressed an interest in helping him – I think he's considering adopting him."

"Adopting him?" repeated Jack. "Well, that'll be good – at least being away from the circus, he won't be constantly reminded about…what happened. A more normal upbringing will probably do him good."

"I'm not sure being the adopted son of a playboy billionaire would be a normal upbringing exactly," commented Harley, starting the car engine. "But I imagine he'll want for nothing. I've told him I'll look in on him and see how he's doing fairly frequently."

"Well, he's sure to do just fine then," said Jack, smiling at her. "He's got a helluva shrink."

"I'll do my best, but after something like this, I can't blame him if he has difficulty adjusting," said Harley. "I'm shaken by it, and I didn't even know the Graysons that well."

Jack could see that her hands which gripped the steering wheel were shaking, and he gently touched her arm. "I'm sorry," he said. "I wish I could have prevented what happened. But I guess it's my fault Mr. Haly didn't believe me – if I had been a better person, if I hadn't gotten involved with Mary and broken up the family…maybe everyone would have trusted me when I told them about something like this."

"It doesn't do any good to think like that," said Harley. "What's done is done, and we shouldn't regret things we can't change. We can only…move forward with the future, not dwell on the past."

"Sounds good to me," agreed Jack. There was silence, and he cleared his throat. "What kinda future did you have in mind?"

Harley sighed. "Look, J, I don't…know how I feel about you," she said. "All I know is I can't stop thinking about you…even before…you said you loved me. I didn't sleep last night…I…I think I might love you too, because I want to trust you. It may be stupid and crazy, but…I can't help how I feel."

She sighed again. "I mean, it doesn't make any sense," she said. "You were involved with another woman…a woman who's now dead…you were involved with both of us at the same time, and you lied to me about it…"

"I didn't lie," he retorted. "I just didn't…tell you I was still involved with her. It's not the kinda thing you tell the gal you're really interested in, that you're still having a physical relationship with another girl because she's threatened to blackmail you if you don't."

"I have to trust you that that was the case," murmured Harley. "It sounds like a ridiculous excuse."

He was silent again. "Harley, I've always been honest with you, and I always will be. In fact, I'll tell you what I've never told anyone else, about who I used to be. Maybe it'll help with the whole trust issue."

He took a deep breath. "My real name is Jack Napier. I used to work for a mob boss named Sal Valestra, until we got into a fight and he…dismissed me."

"What did you fight about?" she asked.

"I killed some people he didn't want killed," said Jack.

"So…you're a murderer," said Harley, slowly.

"I've killed people," he replied. "But I didn't kill the Graysons. I'm not sure I have the stomach for that kinda work anymore – I was recently told that being a clown has made me go soft. And maybe it has, or maybe it's…something else," he said, looking at her. "But I don't want to be a murderer. I don't want to be a bad guy anymore, and I don't want that stigma over my head forever. Which is why I never told anyone who I used to be. Jack Napier is a murderer, and he's not someone I want anything more to do with in the future. I want to make people laugh. I spent most of my life…making people miserable. And maybe this is my guilty conscience wanting to atone for that. What I did in my past was horrible, and I don't want to go back to that life. I want to be good again. I want to make people happy. You especially," he added, gazing at her.

She shook her head. "I must be crazy," she murmured. "Taking a murderer into my home, hiding him from the law, and preventing him from facing justice. It's stupid. Stupid," she repeated. "And wrong."

"Are you going to turn me in?" he asked.

"No," she murmured. "I'm not. But I can't understand why, rationally."

"Maybe it's not a rational thing," he said.

She said nothing. "I must be crazy to fall for someone like you," she muttered. "A clown and a criminal – what kind of person is that for me to fall in love with? I…I can't rationalize my attraction – there's nothing objectively irresistible about you."

"Thanks," retorted Jack. "Believe me, I know you're far too good for me. Maybe you feel sorry for me, someone so outta your league, and maybe it's just a pity thing."

"Maybe," she agreed. "Or maybe my mind was more affected by the trauma tonight than I thought, and has just snapped. That's a reasonable explanation. Maybe I've just…gone insane."

"I guess I have that effect," agreed Jack. "I mean, for all I know, Mary Grayson was a normal person before she met me, but she has an affair with me and loses her sanity, and her life…maybe it is my fault she ended up dead."

That was true, he thought. If he hadn't complained about her and her family to Zucco, he might have picked a different target. Hell, if he hadn't brought Zucco to the circus at all, the Graysons would be alive now. Jack hadn't cut the rope himself, but because of his actions, he might as well have.

"I don't think Mary was crazy," said Harley. "Nothing she did was that unusual – people have affairs all the time. People get jealous and possessive, and that drives them to do irrational things, but that's not the same as being insane. The people I work with, at Arkham…they're different. There's nothing normal about their thought processes, or their actions. They're unpredictable. Like me, a perfectly reasonable human being, deciding to hide a murderer in her home."

"You can drop me off anywhere if you're not comfortable with that," he said.

"I am comfortable with that," she retorted. "That's why I think I might be crazy."

"I'm sorry," he said, running his fingers through his hair. "For everything. I didn't want to drag you into this. I'm free to ruin my own life, and I'm clearly pretty good at it, but I really wish I coulda stopped ruining other people's…Jesus, it's been a helluva night," he sighed, reaching into his jacket for a cigarette. "Do you mind if I smoke?" he asked, about to light up.

"No, go ahead," she said. "Another habit that should negate your attractiveness," she sighed. "And yet, it doesn't."

"Well, if killing people and smoking won't do it, then I don't know what to tell you," he said, lighting his cigarette and inhaling deeply.

"Yeah, I guess it must be love," she sighed. "Crazy, mad love."

"At least I know I'm not crazy to love you," he said. "You'd have to be crazy _not_ to. You got everything a man could ever want in a woman – looks, brains, talent…and clearly an excellent sense of compassion, even for the lowest of humanity."

"Now don't insult me by telling me the man I love is the lowest of humanity," retorted Harley. "I mean…you're not bad looking yourself, even in that clown makeup. And you're clearly incredibly charming. And you're very funny. I've always been fairly serious-minded, and I've always wanted not to be. I guess I just…like a man who can make me laugh, despite his defects. Or maybe because of them. I became a psychiatrist to help people with their problems, but maybe I did that because I'm fascinated by them. Maybe I love the imperfections and the flaws."

"Well, I got a lotta those," commented Jack, puffing out a cloud of smoke.

"I know. Ironically, maybe your imperfections make you perfect for me," she said, giving him a small smile.

"You're right – that's crazy," he agreed. "I love you because you're perfect. So maybe we balance each other out."

She didn't respond, pulling her car up in front of an apartment building. They were silent as they climbed the stairs to her apartment, and Harley unlocked the door. "There's not a huge amount of space…" she began.

"That's fine, I don't take up much room," he said, looking around. "Nice place you got here."

"Thanks. You can have the sofa, if that's all right," she said, gesturing at the couch. "I'll get you some sheets to make up a bed. It's more comfortable than it looks."

"It's probably more comfortable than my bed in my trailer, don't worry," assured Jack. "Mary always used to complain about it hurting her back…" He trailed off. "Actually, I maybe shouldn't talk about that…"

"Yeah, I really don't want to think about her anymore tonight if I can avoid it," agreed Harley. "Especially not you having sex with her, and especially not…"

She left her sentence unfinished, and then rubbed her eyes. "Uh…I'll get those sheets."

She headed down the hall to a cupboard, and Jack berated himself. "Stupid, Jack, stupid!" he muttered. "You're just intent on sabotaging this whole thing, aren't you? You got a great gal who's putting up with you despite everything, and you remind her of your ex-lover who fell to her death tonight! What is wrong with you?! Your natural instinct is just to hurt other people, and yourself, apparently!"

"Here you go," said Harley, returning with sheets and a pillow. "There's a towel there too, in case you want a shower. Bathroom's down the hall. I'm gonna head to bed now, if you don't mind. Goodnight, J…Jack…what do you want to be called?" she asked.

"Joker's fine," he said. "That was the one version of me who never caused anybody harm, not really. He just made people laugh. That's the man I want to be, somebody who just spreads smiles."

She nodded. "Well, goodnight, Joker," she said. They stood facing each other awkwardly for a moment, and just as Jack had resolved to go in for a kiss, she turned and left, heading to her bedroom and shutting the door.


	17. Chapter 17

Jack sighed, taking the towel and heading into the bathroom. He had to scrub his face raw to finally get all the makeup off, but he succeeded eventually. He dried off and then dressed back in his undershirt and pants, and headed back out to the sofa. He made up a bed, and then lay down, trying to sleep.

But he couldn't. He kept seeing the Graysons falling to their deaths every time he shut his eyes. He heard crying coming from Harley's room, and imagined she was seeing the same thing. Her sobs broke his heart. Eventually, he stood up and knocked on her door.

"Come in," she whispered.

He obeyed. "Hey, thought you could use some cheering up," he said, smiling at her. She sat huddled in the bed in a nightdress, her eyes red from crying. "Well, Joker's here to help."

"I don't think you can cheer people up after a huge trauma like this," she whispered, wiping her eyes.

"Oh, ye of little faith," he said. "C'mon, I'll tell you some jokes. What did the clown say to the doctor?"

"Is this a joke, or just our conversation?" asked Harley, wiping her eyes.

"Y'know, that's probably a better punchline than the actual punchline," admitted Jack. "Which is 'I feel funny.' Get it? Funny? Because he's a clown? Probably not my best," he added, when she just looked at him. "All right, how about this one: a priest, a minister, and a rabbi walk into a bar…"

"You know I'm Jewish, right?" interrupted Harley.

"Uh…no, I didn't," he said, slowly. "Which means you got a sense of humor about the suffering of your people, right?"

Harley sniffed, and Jack said hastily, "All right, all right, no jokes about suffering or Jewish people. Let's see…ooh, got one! So there's this guy who wants to take skydiving lessons…"

"You really are bad at this, aren't you?" sniffed Harley.

"Yeah, I guess I am," he agreed. "Can't even do the one thing I'm meant to be good at and cheer people up. Some clown I am," he muttered, sitting down next to her on the bed.

There was silence for a moment. "It was just so sudden," whispered Harley. "One second they're as alive as I am, living, breathing, doing incredible acrobatics…and then the next they're…gone. Life is so fleeting, and so precious."

"Yeah," agreed Jack. "In a strange way, witnessing death makes you feel more alive. It makes you appreciate life more, anyway."

She nodded. "It must be worse for you," she sniffed. "You were…intimate with her. That's as close as you can be with a person, sharing their body, literally sharing their life, their touch, their breath, their heartbeat. Now that's all gone."

He shook his head. "It wasn't…as romantic as you make it sound," he murmured. "I mean, not that I wanna talk about it with you, but…it wasn't love, what we had. I didn't think about any of that with her…I only thought about myself, and my own feelings. It's weird to think that she's dead, but…I'm probably not as upset about it as I should be. I'm sorry, that's an awful thing to say…"

"At least you're honest," murmured Harley. She sighed. "We take every day for granted. We go to sleep assuming we'll wake up, we say goodnight assuming there'll be a morning. But there won't be, for the Graysons. My one consolation is that before they died…they were happy together again. I'm sure they must have felt…love for each other again. I hope they appreciated every second they had together, because they're all gone now. We can't take those seconds for granted, especially around the people we love."

"No, we can't," he agreed. They sat in silence as the seconds ticked by. Then Harley gently stretched out her hand for his. He took it, pressing her palm.

"We're alive," she whispered. "And we're together. It's probably wrong, considering the tragedy we witnessed today, but…I don't want to take that for granted right now."

"Me neither," he whispered, raising his hand up to her face and touching her cheek. She gazed at him with her big blue eyes, and then gently leaned forward, pressing her mouth softly into his.

Their kiss grew more passionate, and she began fumbling with his clothes, their lips never separating. He reached down to remove her nightdress, pressing her back down on the pillows as she pulled off his pants. She felt his body throbbing against hers, their hearts pounding together, their flesh soft and warm as it caressed each other. She gasped as she embraced him, feeling his body enter hers, feeling a million sensations bursting through her body, all of them joyful. She felt his breath in her ear as he whispered, "I love you, Harley."

"I love you too, Joker," she breathed.

…

The next morning, Harley woke up to feel Jack's body against hers as he held her gently in his arms. She snuggled into his embrace, shutting her eyes and just enjoying the blissful sensation of his skin against hers. Then she opened her eyes and glanced at the clock.

"Mmm, gotta get to work," she said, pulling herself away from him reluctantly.

"You should phone in sick," he said. "You did suffer an emotional trauma yesterday – you're probably not recovered enough to go to work."

"You really are a bad man, aren't you?" she asked, grinning at him. "Trying to take advantage of a tragedy just so we can stay in bed together."

"I'm not taking advantage about it – you _are_ affected by the tragedy," he retorted. "You went crazy enough to sleep with me, remember?"

"How could I forget?" she asked, kissing him. "But I doubt work would accept that as an excuse," she said, standing up and pulling on her robe. "Just gonna get a quick shower."

When Harley emerged from the bathroom, dressed in her work clothes, she was surprised to see the table set, and breakfast awaiting her, as Jack placed a plate of bacon and eggs in front of her. "You shouldn't head off without breakfast – it's the most important meal of the day," he said, smiling at her.

"Oh, J, this is…lovely," she stammered, as he pulled out her chair for her.

"It's the least I can do after you let me hide out here," he said. "You need any other chores done while you're out? Laundry? Vacuuming? Grocery shopping?"

"It's probably best that you don't wander around the streets," said Harley. "There's probably a warrant out for you by now."

"Yeah, lying low is a good idea," agreed Jack. "At least for a little while."

"I think probably for a long while," retorted Harley, eating her breakfast. "I doubt this is just going to die down and go away if we ignore it."

"I didn't mean that," he said. "I just meant…we don't have to stay in Gotham. We should leave as soon as we can."

"We?" repeated Harley.

"Well…you are gonna come with me, aren't you?" he asked, taking her hand. "I mean…I thought we could leave this dump of a town and start a new life together somewhere else. You could probably get another shrink job somewhere else, or failing that, we could start our own circus and you could go back to your acrobatics..."

"Not after last night," retorted Harley. "It'll be a long time before I get back on that particular horse. Anyway, I did promise Dick I'd check in on him regularly. I can't just abandon him after what happened."

"Well, I can't stay here," said Jack. "And I also can't leave without you. I'd rather take my chances with the cops here than go anywhere else without you."

"That's crazy talk," she said.

"No, it's true," he said. "I love you. I'd rather be dead than be without you."

She kissed him tenderly. "We'll discuss this later," she said, standing up. "I gotta get going. Try to stay out of trouble," she added, taking her bag from the counter and heading for the door.

"Hard to do with a Joker in the deck," he replied, grinning as he held open the door.

She grinned back, and then wrapped her arms around his neck. "Bye," she said, kissing him. Jack slid his arms around her waist, and their mouths didn't separate for a good minute.

"Bye," he murmured, when they drew away at last. "I love you."

"I love you too," she whispered. They kissed again briefly, and then Harley headed down the stairs, smiled at him, and was gone.


	18. Chapter 18

"Well, guess this makes me the housewife for the day," commented Jack, to no one in particular, as he tidied up the table and began doing the dishes. He was interrupted by the ringing of his phone, when a familiar number popped up on the screen.

"Tony Zucco, just the man I wanted to speak to," growled Jack, answering it. "What the hell were you thinking last night?"

"Shut up, Jack – I know, it turned out worse than I expected," retorted Zucco. "A lot worse. Are you watching the news?"

"No," retorted Jack.

"Well, turn on the TV," said Zucco. Jack obeyed, flicking over to the news channel.

"And now our top story," said the newsreader. "Tragedy struck Gotham yesterday, as John and Mary Grayson, part of the Flying Graysons, a family acrobat act featured in Haly's Circus, were killed when they fell from their trapeze during the evening's show. The police have confirmed that the death was no accident, and that the trapeze ropes were in fact cut, and they suspect two men of involvement: the circus's former clown, a man known only as The Joker, and a man who has been positively identified as Tony Zucco, who has been actively involved in Gotham's gangland for years, and who threatened the circus's proprietor, Mr. Haly, only a few days ago. Dick Grayson, the surviving son of the Graysons, positively identified Mr. Zucco at the scene of the crime, leaving the big top just before the tragedy struck, and police are now actively seeking any information on Mr. Zucco's whereabouts. On a happier note, Dick Grayson has been adopted by billionaire philanthropist Bruce Wayne…"

"That bastard Grayson kid recognized me from the other day!" exclaimed Zucco. "And now the cops are combing the city for me!"

"I thought you wanted the publicity, Tony," retorted Jack.

"Not like this!" snapped Zucco. "I didn't want there to be witnesses! Me threatening Haly is circumstantial evidence – they couldn't make that stick in a court, but a jury always believes a sympathetic witness, like the orphan son of the victims! If I'm caught, they're gonna put me away for a long time!"

"I guess that'll teach you not to do stupid crap like that again, won't it?" retorted Jack. "Stupid crap that drags your associates in as accessories to your crime, and gets the cops out looking for them too."

"I'm sorry, Jack!" snapped Zucco. "But I'll make this right somehow, I promise. Even though at the moment I don't feel safe enough to leave this bar…where are you hiding out?"

"None of your business," retorted Jack. "And don't you dare come looking for me. We're through, Tony. I can't trust you after you pull this kinda stunt. I can't work for a guy I don't trust."

"Jack, you're angry, and I understand that," said Zucco. "But that's no reason to dissolve our association."

"It is, because you're a liability, Tony," retorted Jack. "So have a nice life and all, but I really don't want to hear from you again. Bye."

"Jack, wait!" said Zucco. "Look, I get that you're mad at me, but…but you won't do anything stupid, will you?"

"You're asking me if I'm gonna talk to the cops?" asked Jack. "Frankly, I think they'd rather have me than you, once they find out who I am, so no, I won't be that stupid. I ain't a squealer."

"Good," said Zucco, relief evident in his voice. "That's good, Jack. I'll pay you back – I'll get this all sorted…"

"Yeah, I really believe you, Tony," interrupted Jack. "When pigs fly. Let me offer you a piece of friendly advice - the best thing you can do for yourself right now is to get the hell outta Gotham. If Bruce Wayne's adopted that kid, that means he cares about this case, and you know money like that is gonna buy influence. Neither of us are safe if we stay here. If it won't be the law after us, it'll be someone outside the law, like this Batman nutjob."

"You don't think he'll be hunting for us, do you?" asked Zucco, obviously frightened.

"No, I think he's a reasonable individual who's suddenly realized how stupid he is dressing in a Halloween costume and attacking criminals," said Jack, sarcastically. "I bet he'll never do it again, so don't you worry, Tony." He hung up the phone. "Idiot," he muttered, returning to the dishes.

When Harley arrived home that evening, the apartment was sparkling clean, and Jack had cooked a pasta dinner, and lit candles. "So we can add maid to your list of talents?" she asked, grinning at him as she removed her heels.

"And cook," he agreed, pulling her chair out for her again.

"That remains to be seen," she said, wrapping spaghetti around her fork. She tasted it, and then nodded. "Yep, and cook," she agreed.

"How was your day?" he asked, taking the seat across from her as he helped himself to some pasta.

"Fine," she said. "But everyone knew I was at the circus last night, and kept asking about the Graysons. I told them I didn't want to talk about it, but that doesn't stop people asking."

"It was all over the news," agreed Jack. "A certain associate of mine called to make sure I saw it."

"Is this the guy responsible for their deaths?" asked Harley.

He nodded. "I guess there's no harm in telling you – Tony Zucco's face and name are everywhere."

"Do you think the police will catch him?" asked Harley.

"I don't know," said Jack. "Tony's not the brightest. Clearly," he added.

"Why did he do it?" she asked.

"He wanted Mr. Haly to pay him protection money," said Jack. "When Mr. Haly refused, he wanted to show he was serious, so he jumped to murder. He's fairly unstable."

"Obviously," agreed Harley.

"I told him I didn't want anything more to do with him after this," said Jack. "So I really hope he takes the hint."

"Do you know where he's hiding out?" asked Harley.

Jack nodded slowly. "Yeah. Why?"

"You could tell me," said Harley. "And I could tell the police, via an anonymous tip."

Jack was silent. "Harley, I don't want to…rat him out. I'm not that kinda guy…"

"He murdered two people last night," said Harley. "He deserves to be locked up for his crimes."

"By that logic, so do I," retorted Jack. "Tony's an idiot, but I won't see him behind bars because of me."

"He was happy to put you behind bars because of him," retorted Harley. "I would say that's justice."

"That wasn't intentional, Harley…" he began.

"But killing the Graysons was," she interrupted. "It was premeditated, and completely unjustified, assuming killing can ever be justified. But killing them because their boss wouldn't pay protection money? Something that had absolutely nothing to do with them? You can't tell me that this is the kinda man who should be out on the streets. What's to stop him trying something like this again, and killing more innocent people?"

"I promised I wouldn't squeal on him," said Jack. "I'm a man of my word, Harley."

Harley shook her head. "Fine. Keep your promise to a murderer," she said. "Meanwhile a child is hurting because his parents were murdered, and won't see justice for it. The least you could do is give that poor kid some closure over this horrible affair – if you want to make up for, in some way, the damage you did to him, and to his family, this would be a great place to start."

Jack sighed. "You really feel that strongly about it?" he asked.

"I do," she said. "But it's ultimately up to you. You should do what you feel is right, and I shouldn't try to influence you. Let's say no more about it."

"Will you...still love me if I don't give him up?" asked Jack.

She sipped her glass of wine. "I don't hold my feelings hostage to get my way," she said. "I'm not that type of woman. I'll love you whatever you choose to do."

He smiled. "You're a damn good shrink, staying outta it and leaving it between me and my conscience. He's probably harsher on me than you could ever be."

"Well, I do specialize in criminal psychology," she replied, grinning. "I know how the minds of you people work."

"The minds of you people?" he repeated. "Is that how you see me? As just another criminal, like one of your patients?"

She sighed. "It was just a joke, J," she retorted. "But I guess I shouldn't joke about you being a criminal – you're clearly very sensitive about it."

"I told you, that's because I don't want to be one anymore," he retorted. "I never…told Mary about my past, but…I think part of the attraction for her was because I was a…bad guy, who was having an affair with another man's wife. I was a bad man, and that turned her on…I don't think she actually cared much for me personally, but she loved the idea of me. So I'm a little…wary of that now."

"So you think I'm the same as her?" she asked. "Attracted to the bad boy idea of you, rather than you? You don't think I'm a little more self-aware than that, being a psychiatrist and all?"

"I don't know," he said. "I just know…I'm completely amazed that you want to be with me. It's like a dream, too good to be true, and I keep expecting to wake up…or for you to wake up, and realize what an awful person I am, and how you can do so much better."

"Maybe I can," she agreed. "Maybe I should turn you over to the police and start seeing a nice, respectable doctor whose only offense has been accidentally stealing a pen from the bank. Would that make you happy?"

"No," he said.

"I don't think it would make me happy either," she agreed. "For whatever reason, I want my clown criminal, and I can't imagine anyone else taking his place. Not even another equally bad criminal, or equally funny clown, because I already have the best of both worlds. Because there's only one Joker, isn't there?"

"Yep," he agreed, with a smile. "The one and only."

"Completely unique, and completely mine, isn't that right?" she asked, putting down her glass and coming over to straddle his lap.

"That's right, toots," he murmured.

"Well, I'm not entirely sure of the reasons for it, but for some reason, he appears to be the guy I want," she murmured, unbuttoning his shirt. "Like I said, maybe it's crazy, but…you do the craziest things when you're in love, don't you?"

"I guess so," he agreed, enveloping her mouth with his own.

They lay cuddled in each other's arms later, not saying a word. Harley was content to curl up and listen to his heartbeat, and Jack was gently playing with her hair and thinking. "Harley?" he said at last.

"Mmm?" she asked, looking up at him.

"I'm gonna turn Zucco in," he said. "It's the right thing to do."

She smiled, squeezing his hand. "I'm proud of you," she said. "But I knew you'd make the right decision. You're a good man, deep down inside. I think you always have been."

"I haven't," he said. "And the only reason I'm worth anything now is because of you."

"You're very melodramatic, for a clown," she yawned. "Thought you were meant to be funny."

"I'll show you funny," he said, grinning. "What did the criminal say to the cops when they found him burgling the paint factory? 'You caught me red-handed!'"

Harley just looked at him. "Maybe it's the makeup that does it?" she asked. "Because you really can't make me laugh without it."

"I can too," he retorted, and he began tickling her mercilessly. She giggled uncontrollably and Jack grinned. "See?" he asked, kissing her.

"That's cheating," she said.

"Well, I'm kinda a bad guy, remember," he said.

"No, you're not," she said, kissing him. "And trust me, when you do good, good things come your way."

Jack smiled at her. He had honestly begun to believe that. Unfortunately for him, good things weren't what fate had in store.


	19. Chapter 19

"Good to see you again, Bruce," said Harvey Dent, as he sat down to dinner at the most expensive restaurant in Gotham with his friend, Bruce Wayne. "How are you adjusting to the pressures of fatherhood? You realize having a kid will put a real cramp in your dating life, don't you?"

"Not so far, it hasn't," retorted Bruce, with a smile. "So far all the women I've dated think it only adds to my sensitivity and compassion, to take in a poor little orphan boy after a dreadful accident."

"Is that why you did it?" chuckled Dent, as the waiter brought over their usual drinks.

"I think you know me better than that, Harvey," replied Bruce. "Despite the superficiality I sell to the papers, the real me has a little more substance."

Bruce sipped his drink. "I adopted him because…he reminded me of me," he murmured. "You could see in his face that he felt the same way I did after my parents were killed. Disbelief, horror, indescribable pain, and…rage at the person who did it. Or in this case, persons," he added.

"Well, speaking of the persons involved, we've got one of them in custody," said Dent, glancing at the menu. "Commissioner Gordon arrested Tony Zucco today, thanks to an anonymous tip."

"That's great news, Harvey," said Bruce. "For Dick especially. I know that it doesn't make everything better, but it's some small comfort to see the guy who killed your parents brought to justice. Or I imagine it would be, anyway," he added, with a humorless smile.

"Bruce, I'm sure some day, Joe Chill will be caught," said Dent. "Now that I'm DA, no criminal in Gotham is safe. We're cracking down on crime, and if he's still in Gotham, he's gonna be brought in sooner or later."

"I hope so, Harvey," said Bruce, with little optimism in his voice. They ordered their food, and then Bruce turned back to Dent. "What about this Joker guy?" he asked. "Any leads on him?"

"Zucco may have just given us one," said Dent, nodding. "He says the Joker's real name is Jack Napier. Gordon showed me his file – he used to be a hitman for the Valestra gang. Disappeared outta Gotham after some set-to with his boss, and hasn't been seen around for months. I guess he joined this circus and they brought him back to Gotham, and he couldn't resist returning to his old habits. Once a criminal, always a criminal, I guess. Or it's something about this city that brings out the worst in people."

"Maybe," sighed Bruce. "Do we have a motive for the murder?"

"Zucco says he just wanted money," said Dent. "Said he just wanted Haly to pay him protection, and that he had wanted to avoid violence as much as possible. He said the idea for the murder came from Napier, and he was pressured to go along with it. He said it was personal for Napier. The Grayson woman had apparently been romantically involved with him, and he wanted her dead after she returned to her husband. If he couldn't have her, nobody could, I guess. That fits with the story Dick gave us, doesn't it?"

"Yeah," agreed Bruce. "He must be a real psychopath to be able to do that to a woman he was romantically involved with, just because she wants to end their affair and rebuild her marriage."

"He probably is," agreed Dent. "Cold-hearted bastard anyhow, to do that to the kid and his family. Sadly, Zucco couldn't give us any information as to his whereabouts – I think if he knew where he was, he would have, though. He was pretty steamed at Napier – probably thinks Napier's the one who ratted him out to us."

"Was he?" asked Bruce.

Dent shook his head. "No, it was anonymous, but it was a woman on the phone."

"A woman?" repeated Bruce. "Someone Zucco was involved with?"

"Maybe," said Dent, shrugging. "Or maybe it's someone Napier's involved with, and he just ratted Zucco out via her so as not to leave a trail."

Bruce nodded slowly. "So that's all we know?" he asked.

Dent smiled. "Bruce, it's probably more than one civilian should know," he retorted. "You're my friend, and I trust you, but this is all confidential, police business. You should feel privileged that you're even privy to it."

"I know, Harvey," said Bruce. "And thanks for keeping me in the loop on this one, for Dick's sake."

"No problem, Bruce," said Dent. "Anything I can do that can bring any comfort to that poor kid, I will do. I can't imagine what he must be going through."

"I can," murmured Bruce, sipping his drink.

The waiter returned with their food, and Dent suddenly snapped his fingers. "Oh, there is one more thing," he said. "Not sure if it's important, but I thought I'd share. Apparently Napier was carrying a bit of a torch for Dr. Quinzel, the shrink who did the Graysons's marriage counseling, and the one who was with Dick on the night of the murder. Zucco said Napier told her he loved her, and she slammed the door in his face. Rightly so, of course, but doesn't that seem odd to you?"

"What's odd about it?" asked Bruce. "Dr. Quinzel's an objectively attractive woman. A guy like that will say anything just to get a shot at her."

"Present company included?" asked Dent, with a grin.

"I'm not going to date my adopted son's psychiatrist, Harvey," said Bruce. "That would be an ethical nightmare for her."

"That's what Zucco said Dr. Quinzel said to Napier, as an excuse," said Dent, nodding. "Said she couldn't get involved with someone involved with one of her patients. Zucco said part of the reason Napier wanted to kill the Graysons was so they wouldn't be her patients anymore, and that objection would disappear."

"So he is crazy," said Bruce, nodding. "Thinking that murdering her patients will mean she wants to have anything to do with him."

"You know criminals, Bruce," said Dent, tucking in to his steak. "They're a cowardly, superstitious lot, and a lot of them are also crazy and stupid. And people like that don't think about the consequences of their actions, or they wouldn't do them in the first place. He was probably so obsessed with having Dr. Quinzel that he just didn't think logically about what he was doing to get her. I'll never understand people with narrow obsessions like that, blinding them to the bigger picture. What sad, miserable lives they must lead."

Bruce said nothing. After dinner, he said goodbye to Dent and returned to Wayne Manor. "How's Dick?" he asked Alfred, as his butler helped him off with his coat.

"Still very morose, sir, as one might expect," said Alfred. "It's very disheartening to see, especially twice in one lifetime, such extreme melancholy in one so young. It's truly a shame."

"Yes, it is," agreed Bruce. "Is he around?"

"In his room, sir," said Alfred.

Bruce nodded, and then headed up the stairs and down the expansive hallway to his adopted son's room. He knocked on his door.

"Come in," murmured Dick.

"How are you feeling today, Dick?" asked Bruce, entering the room to see Dick curled up in bed, his face buried in his pillow.

"The same," muttered Dick. "Nothing ever changes."

"It will, in time," said Bruce. "The pain won't ever go away, but…it dulls a little. Or you get used to it. I'm honestly not sure which."

Dick said nothing, and Bruce cleared his throat. "I've got some good news. Harvey told me the police have caught Tony Zucco."

"And the clown?" asked Dick, looking up.

"Not yet," said Bruce. "But they will, Dick. Give them time."

"He's the one who set it up, I'm sure of it," muttered Dick. "He's a bad man, a monster…they should kill him if they catch him."

"Killing isn't justice, Dick," said Bruce. "It's vengeance. And it won't make you feel any better."

"He deserves to die for what he did to my family," muttered Dick. "What he did to my…mother…"

"Did he hang around Dr. Quinzel a lot when she came to the circus?" asked Bruce.

"He certainly tried," said Dick. "He's like a snake – fascinating people and then biting them, and killing them slowly with his poison. That's what he did to my mother."

"But he tried to be around Dr. Quinzel a lot?" pressed Bruce.

Dick nodded. "She invited him to one of our sessions once. Maybe she thought he was a really broken mind worth examining, because I'd see them talking together sometimes. But it was never anything more than that. Dr. Quinzel would never be interested in a guy like that, some pathetic...clown."

Bruce nodded slowly. "Thank you, Dick," he said. "I'm just going out to a party now and probably won't be back until late. You try and get some sleep."

Bruce shut the door and headed back down the stairs. "How is he, sir?" asked Alfred.

"The same," replied Bruce. "But there's been progress on the actual case - the police have caught Zucco. Now we just need to find this Joker."

"We, sir?" repeated Alfred. "Am I to understand that…the Batman is considering helping them with their investigation?"

"That's right," said Bruce, heading for the secret entrance to the Batcave. "I'm just going to follow up some leads Harvey gave me."

"And what leads are those, sir?" asked Alfred. "And wouldn't such action best be left to the police?"

"The police are limited to what they can do within the law," retorted Bruce. "Batman is not. And this is one case where we shouldn't fight fair. This Joker guy is sick – he murdered the Graysons just because Mary Grayson had ended her affair with him. If he's going to break all rules of law and common decency, I don't see any reason why we shouldn't fight fire with fire."

"You have to be very careful of that attitude, sir," said Alfred. "Or you become no better than the people you fight against."

"Don't worry, Alfred. I'm not going to do anything that extreme," said Bruce. "But I just want to resolve this, for Dick's sake. Everything I do is for him. I could only dream of having some protective guardian helping the police find my parents' killer and bringing him to justice. So I'm going to make that dream come true for Dick."

Alfred sighed. "I suppose I can't stop you. Is it the usual strategy of beating up random criminals until one of them talks?"

"If that's what's necessary," replied Bruce, pulling on his Batman costume. "But not yet. There's no need for violence until I find out if my lead can help me or not. Batman's just going to have a civilized talk with someone who knew this Joker, and whom he appears to have been very interested in, to see if she can tell me a little more about his psychology - Dr. Harleen Quinzel."


	20. Chapter 20

"Can I look yet?" giggled Harley, who had her eyes covered as she lay on the bed.

"Not yet," retorted Jack from the bathroom down the hall.

"I've never been a fan of surprises, you know," she said.

"Well, that was before I broke your serious mind," retorted Jack. "My Harley Quinn loves surprises, because she's a fun, spontaneous person, just like the Joker. And speaking of the Joker, ta da!" he exclaimed, leaping into the bedroom wearing his clown makeup.

Harley stared at him. "Where did you get that?" she asked. "I don't have facepaint at my house."

"I had some in the pockets of the costume, for emergencies," he explained. "Doncha like it?"

"Your surprise is…you want to wear clown makeup in bed?" asked Harley, slowly.

"Y'know, it was just an experiment, but I can see you ain't too keen on it," snapped Jack, frowning. "I thought you loved my clown look!"

"I do," said Harley. "But that doesn't mean I want it all over your body," she said, studying him. "And I don't particularly want you to wear it during our intimate moments."

"Why not? It's kissproof," he replied.

Harley grinned. "You're crazy, you know that?" she said.

"Well, if a shrink says it, it must be true," he replied, coming over to kiss her. She pulled him down on top of her, sharing long, lingering kisses as her hands roamed his body.

"You see, it's the clown look that's turning you on," he murmured, grinning at her. "Works every time."

She giggled. "Got any left over?" she asked. "I don't think it's fair if just one of us wears it. You gotta be turned on by the clown look too."

"Sweets, you could wear anything and it would turn me on," he retorted. "Or nothing, preferably," he added, spanking her as she stood up. "I left the makeup by the sink – knock yourself out."

"So does this mean we gotta talk dirty with clown innuendos?" she called, as she headed toward the bathroom.

"Like what?" asked Jack. "Yank the rubber chicken, that kinda thing?"

"Yeah, and juggling balls," agreed Harley, giggling as she reached for the white makeup he had left on the sink.

"I gotta say, I'm looking forward to pressing your joy buzzer, toots," he called.

He suddenly heard Harley exclaim, in a concerned tone, "Oh my God!"

"What? Was that one too far?" he asked.

"There's somebody in the apartment!" gasped Harley, who had glimpsed a shadowy figure moving in the reflection of the bathroom mirror.

She hastily pulled on her robe, and Jack did the same, and then raced over to the closet, pulling out his gun which he had stashed there. He left the bedroom to see Harley carefully approaching the living room, and suddenly snapping on the lights.

A man in a bat costume stood there, and turned to her. "Dr. Quinzel," he said. "I'm sorry to disturb you so late."

"Who…the hell are you?" stammered Harley, pulling her robe tighter around herself. "And how the hell did you get into my apartment?"

"I'm Batman," said the man.

"Is that supposed to mean something?" demanded Harley, her initial fear replaced by annoyance.

"I thought you might have heard of me – I've been very active in bringing criminals to justice," said Batman.

"Does that include yourself when you break into someone's apartment?" snapped Harley.

"I wanted to ask you a couple questions relating to the Grayson case," continued Batman, ignoring her. "I understand you provided marriage counseling for the couple, and were also acquainted with the clown by the name of the Joker?"

Jack tensed up – Batman couldn't see him because of the angle of the hallway, so Jack carefully crouched down, peering around the corner and fingering his gun, wondering if he should take his shot. He didn't want to be a murderer anymore, but this was basically self-defense...

"What…about him?" asked Harley, hoping she sounded casual.

"I was hoping you could tell me a bit more about him, psychology wise," said Batman. "He's still out there, you see, evading the law, and my method for catching criminals has always been to try and understand how their minds work. For most of them, the fearsome image of the bat hunting them is enough to frighten them into surrendering to the police, because they're a cowardly, superstitious lot…"

"That's an astounding generalization to make about a huge group of people," interrupted Harley. "I can tell you're not a psychiatrist."

"No, but I have an interest in the criminal mind, like I said," retorted Batman. "So what can you tell me about the Joker's?"

Jack carefully raised his gun. From where Harley was standing, she could just see Jack out of the corner of her eye, and knew she had to buy him some time to aim. "Well, he's…a clown," she stammered. "He likes…uh…making people laugh…"

"What do you suspect the reason for that is?" asked Batman. "Guilty conscience? He's been a criminal before, and maybe that was his twisted way of trying to make amends for that."

"Or…maybe he just likes making people laugh," retorted Harley.

"This affair he was having with Mary Grayson, he was the instigator, wasn't he?" asked Batman.

"Actually, he told me she was," retorted Harley.

"But you can't believe that, Dr. Quinzel," said Batman. "He's a murderer – he'd say anything to get what he wants, and he was obviously trying to play on your sympathy. I'm pretty sure you can dismiss everything he told you as a lie."

"I'm pretty sure I'm the psychiatrist here, not some deranged lunatic in a bat costume," snapped Harley. "And I'm telling you, he didn't lie to me. Or is your philosophy that now that Mrs. Grayson's dead, no bad word can be spoken about her, because she had to be a perfect angel to be a victim of a crime?"

"Why are you so sure he told you the truth?" asked Batman.

"Because I love him," murmured Harley. Jack took a deep breath and suddenly fired the gun. Batman just barely managed to avoid the bullet in time, and it passed through his cape instead of his chest. Jack emerged into the room, holding the gun at eye level.

"Get out," he muttered. "Now. Or I'll shoot again."

Batman looked from him to Harley. "Don't worry, Dr. Quinzel, you're safe now," he said. "I won't let this monster hold you against your will any longer…"

"For God's sake, I said I love him, and I do!" shouted Harley. "He's not holding me prisoner – I hid him so the police wouldn't catch him!"

"But…he's a murderer, Dr. Quinzel," said Batman. "A monster. He murdered the Graysons in front of their son…"

"He didn't!" snapped Harley. "The man who did that is in custody, thanks to him," she said, taking his free hand.

"You called the police," said Batman, studying her. "You gave them the tip, because he told you where he was."

"That's right," said Harley, nodding. "He turned Zucco in, because it was the right thing to do. And he had nothing to do with the Graysons' deaths – that was all Zucco's doing. He tried to stop it."

"Even if that's true, one good deed doesn't wipe away all his bad ones – that's not how the law works…" began Batman.

"What the hell would you know about how the law works?!" shrieked Harley. "You break in to my home without my knowledge in order to interrogate me about the man I love! But I will not allow some self-righteous vigilante with a messiah complex to take him in to custody and get him put away for a crime he didn't commit!"

"Jack Napier committed crimes!" retorted Batman. "And he hasn't paid his debt to society for those! Or didn't he tell you about those, Dr. Quinzel? That might explain why you think you love him, if you bought into his innocent protestations about the Graysons, and figured that was his only transgression!"

"He told me everything!" snapped Harley. "He's always been honest with me, which is part of the reason why I love him!"

Batman glared at Jack, who still kept the gun pointed at his head. "Jack Napier, you're under arrest…" he began.

"I ain't Jack Napier anymore," muttered Jack. "I'm the Joker."

He fired again, this time at Batman's head, who managed to duck out of the way just in time. Batman leaped forward to tackle Jack, who jumped out of the way, sending Batman crashing into a table.

"C'mon!" shouted Jack, grabbing Harley's arm and racing toward the door, taking her car keys on the way out. They hurried down the stairs of the apartment, sensing the shadow of Batman following them, hunting them.

The shadow suddenly landed in front of them just as they reached the bottom of the stairs, and Jack fired at it again, making it temporarily disappear back into the darkness. Jack slammed open the door and ran out onto the street.

"Do you see him?" he gasped, as they raced around the corner to where Harley's car was parked.

"I can't see anything – it's too dark," said Harley, as she and Jack leapt into the car. He started the engine and careened out into the street, nearly colliding with passing traffic. Multiple car horns went off as he raced around a corner, trying to lose Batman in the dizzying streets of Gotham.

After about ten minutes of driving, they both gradually calmed down. "I think we lost him," said Harley, glancing out the back.

"Where the hell are we going to go now?" asked Jack. "We only have the clothes on our backs…"

"We should keep driving, head outta town a little, and then head back to my apartment in an hour or so," said Harley. "Then we'll grab some cash and head to a hotel. We can think about our next move later."

"He's not going to stop hunting us," muttered Jack. "Tony told me about this guy – he's a real nutjob. With the kinda persistence that only psychopaths have."

"You could tell that just by looking at him," retorted Harley. She kept glancing back out into the darkness, and shuddered, pulling her robe tighter around her. "I never thought I'd be stalked by a madman," she said.

"I'm sorry," said Jack. "It's all my fault."

"I think I bear some responsibility for letting you stay," she retorted. "And for letting you seduce me. If we hadn't been sleeping together, at least I wouldn't be stalked by a madman in my bathrobe."

"It is kinda like a bad slasher film," agreed Jack.

"Except you should probably be the stalking madman, with your clown makeup and all," commented Harley. "Aren't scary clowns a big thing in horror movies?"

"Are you saying you think clowns are scarier than a lunatic in a bat costume?" demanded Jack. "Anyway, bats are classic horror symbols – you see 'em in all the vampires movies. He's definitely scarier than me."

"Well, I'd have to agree," said Harley. "Since I've kinda been turned on by a clown and all."

"When we get to that hotel, we should finish what we started earlier," said Jack, sliding a hand onto her leg.

"Except you're gonna be the only one in makeup," pointed out Harley. "I didn't get to even start mine. So we can't do the clown dirty talk."

"We can save it for next time," said Jack. He squeezed her leg. "Next time we'll be safely outta Gotham," he murmured. "We leave first thing tomorrow morning, and we never look back."

"I guess that's the only option now, thanks to this Batman idiot," agreed Harley. She sighed. "Poor Dick," she murmured. "But I'm sure he can find another psychiatrist."

"None of 'em are as good as you," retorted Jack.

She smiled at him, placing her hand on top of his. "I guess it's good we're getting outta Gotham anyway," she commented. "If freaks like that Batman guy are gonna be hanging around and breaking and entering, it's not someplace I'm gonna feel safe in. Do the police know about him?"

"Tony said they're working with him," said Jack. "I guess that's possible."

"Possible but worrying," agreed Harley. "I don't wanna live in a city where the law enforcement relies on a lunatic in a costume who uses illegal strategies to get results. If the police are condoning him, that's hugely unethical, bypassing all sorts of accountability and due process…"

"My little shrink's a lawyer too!" chuckled Jack.

"I'm not, but I know about basic human rights," retorted Harley. "And in a just society, due process is one of those rights. This Batman seems to want to completely disregard them."

"Maybe he's a fan of anarchy," said Jack.

"I think he's a fan of taking the law into his own hands," retorted Harley. "Which is even more worrying."

Jack kissed her cheek. "Try not to think about him, sweets," he murmured. "He's gone."

Harley nodded, looking out the window. "That's funny – I thought they shut that place down," she commented.

"What place?" asked Jack.

"That factory over there," said Harley, pointing off the road. "Ace Chemicals. I read in the paper – there was some sort of health scare over their products, and the government shut 'em down. But there's green glowing coming from inside – can you see it?"

Jack squinted. "Not really," he said. "Maybe it's some leftover radioactivity or something – that's green."

"Speaking of worrying, Gotham's local chemical factory is emitting radiation," sighed Harley. "The sooner we're gone from this city, the better, J."

Jack was about to agree with her, when suddenly something slammed into the car roof, denting it with the force of its landing. "What the hell?!" exclaimed Jack.

"J, it's him!" gasped Harley, glancing in the rear-view mirror. This was confirmed as a dark shape suddenly swooped down from the roof, and landed on the hood of the car, its black cape billowing out and blocking Jack's vision.

"Is he trying to kill us?!" shouted Jack, as the Batman's fist suddenly slammed into the windshield. "I can't see a thing!"

"Get him off!" shrieked Harley, and Jack tried, jolting the car from side to side, but Batman clung on. He raised his fist and slammed it into the glass again, smashing it this time. Jack swore, and suddenly spun the car, crashing it into the railing. Batman still clung on, and Jack reached for his gun, firing at him again through the windshield, which temporarily made Batman jump off it, and into a large ditch behind the railing.

The speed at which Jack had crashed meant the car was totaled. Jack turned to Harley. "You ok?" he gasped.

She nodded, shaking in shock and terror. "Good – we need to run," he said, grabbing her hand and kicking open the door. The two of them fled the car, racing across the road and into the parking lot of Ace Chemicals.

And the dark, caped, bat figure climbed out of the ditch and followed them, like some night predator about to corner its prey.


	21. Chapter 21

"What are we going to do?" gasped Harley, as she and Jack hurried into the factory. It was pitch black, except for huge vats of green liquid which gave off the sickly glow, and illuminated vague shapes in the shadows.

"We need to find a vantage point so we can get the jump on him," retorted Jack, looking around for a good place to do so.

"Is he still following us?" asked Harley, glancing back.

"Of course he is," retorted Jack. "He's a psycho stalker. The only way to stop him is to kill him," he muttered, checking the barrel of his gun. There were only two bullets left, which Jack assured himself was enough to kill the Batman.

"C'mon," he said, climbing some stairs that led up to the platforms hanging above the vats.

"Are you sure it's safe?" asked Harley, looking skeptically at the chains. "They don't look like they'll hold much weight."

"Which one of us are you calling fat?" he chuckled, turning to her with a grin.

"J, how can you joke at a time like this?" asked Harley.

"Hey, I'm a clown, remember?" he said, gesturing at the makeup on his face. "And what else can you do when you're being followed by a joke of a vigilante in a Halloween costume?"

Harley didn't smile, so he sighed, climbing onto the platform and jumping up and down on it. "What are you doing?" gasped Harley, terrified.

"Showing you it's safe," he retorted. "Come on," he said, holding out his hand for her.

She tentatively took it, following him up the stairs and onto the platforms. "Are you sure you can hit him from this high up?" she asked, looking toward the door.

"No," retorted Jack. "But if my first shot misses, he'll come straight for us, and then I'll hit him with my second."

He put his finger to his lips as he suddenly saw a shadow fall upon the doorway. He squinted through the darkness, trying to separate the Batman's shape from the shadow.

He was suddenly blinded as a million lights flicked on – Batman had clearly pulled the switch to activate the factory's power. Jack swore as he fell back, his vision a blur, and when his eyes had adjusted to the light, he saw a dark shape heading straight for him.

Batman kicked Jack straight in the chest, knocking him against the railing and winding him, and sending his gun spinning across the platform. "It's over, Napier," said Batman, standing over him. "There's nowhere to run."

Jack looked over to see what he hadn't been able to see in the darkness – the platform he was on ended abruptly, leaving nothing but space between him and the glowing vats below. The only way off the platform was the way he had come, the way now being blocked by Batman.

But then Jack saw Harley slowly reaching for the gun, her hands shaking as she raised it carefully up. Batman had his attention focused on Jack, so he didn't see Harley aiming at his back. She gulped, took a deep breath, and fired.

Batman roared in pain as the bullet hit him in the side. He dropped to his knees as blood seeped from between his fingers. Jack seized the gun from Harley, aiming it at Batman's head.

"Don't, J!" cried Harley. "You don't have to be a murderer again! He can't follow us now! Let's just get out of here!"

Jack nodded slowly, lowering the gun. He headed past Batman, taking Harley's hand and heading back the way they had come.

Suddenly, something zinged past them, hit the stairs, and exploded. "What the hell?!" shouted Jack, shielding Harley protectively from the blast. He turned to see Batman holding up some kind of gadget which had just launched the explosive. "Are you trying to kill us?!" he roared.

"No," gasped Batman, glaring at him. "I'm just not letting you get away. There's no way you can escape now – we're all going to wait here for the police to show up. They're on their way," he said, holding up a communication device on his sleeve.

"You son of a…" began Jack, advancing toward him with the gun again.

"J, no," said Harley, grabbing his hand and looking at the ceiling. "There's a way out."

Jack followed her eyes to see a ladder high above them, leading to a skylight. "How are we gonna get up there?" he asked.

Harley nodded upwards, and Jack saw that directly overhead of them hung several long, thin fluorescent lights. "It's just like a trapeze," she murmured. "I'll swing us over."

"But I thought you said after what happened to the Graysons that you were too afraid to do that again," said Jack.

"I don't have a choice, do I?" asked Harley. "It's either that or you get arrested and taken away from me. And I'd rather face anything than face that."

Jack smiled and kissed her. "I have faith in you," he murmured. "Go get 'em, kiddo."

Harley nodded, taking another deep breath as she tentatively climbed onto the railing. She tried not to look down at the swirling green chemicals beneath her as she reached up for the light.

"I got you," said Jack, holding her around the waist as she reached up to catch it.

"Boost me up a little," said Harley. He obeyed, and she caught hold of the light, pulling herself up onto it. She swung her legs over it, and then held out her arms for Jack.

He took her hands, and she gently began to swing. "Do you think you can catch it?" she asked, as she swung him up closer and closer to the ladder.

"Yeah, just a little further," he said, reaching out a hand which could almost grasp the bars. Harley obeyed, swinging harder, and Jack caught hold of the ladder. He jumped onto it, and then held out an arm for her. "C'mon, kid," he said. "Jump."

Harley's heart was racing in terror as she swung over the giant vat, and the ground about a hundred feet below. She met Jack's eyes, tried to find strength in them, and suddenly let go of the light and jumped.

It was at that moment that Batman had, with much difficulty, managed to reload his explosive device, which he suddenly shot upwards toward the skylight. The theory was to destroy the top of the ladder, so Jack and Harley wouldn't be able to reach the skylight, and would be trapped until the police arrived. And to his credit, his shot was very accurate, hitting the top of the ladder and exploding it. Unfortunately, the impact of the explosive occurred just as Harley landed on the ladder, causing it to jolt, and causing her to slip out of Jack's grip.

"No!" shouted Jack, desperately trying to grab her. He failed, but she succeeded in grabbing the bottom rung before she fell. But in his panic, Jack had lost his grip on the ladder completely, and suddenly tumbled downward toward the glowing green chemicals below.

Harley watched in horror as, for the second time in a short period of time, she saw someone fall to their death. But this time it was someone she loved, which made it a million times worse. She could hear herself shrieking, but it seemed to come from a long way off, as she watched the man she loved plummet down, down, down until he hit the chemicals with a splash. The image of his clown face as he fell, his painted smile frozen in shock and horror, would be the last she ever saw of Jack Napier.


	22. Chapter 22

The police arrived after what seemed like an eternity for Harley. She had been tempted to just follow Jack and let go of the ladder, but for some reason she clung on to life. Even though her heart told her this was basically the end of hers – she had lost Jack forever, and she would undoubtedly be sent to prison for aiding and abetting him. The Batman would see to that, she thought, glaring at him as he spoke to the Police Commissioner Gordon, while the other officers got a ladder to fetch Harley down.

She didn't say a word to anyone, but as the police escorted her past Batman, she shot him a look which, had it been a bullet, would have killed him on the spot.

"We've found a body, sir," said one of the policemen, who had been ordered to probe the vats for Napier. "And judging by the clown makeup, we're pretty sure it's him."

"Odd that it didn't wash off in those chemicals," said Gordon, frowning. "We need to find out what was in there, to establish an exact cause of death."

" _He_ was the cause of his death," muttered Harley, still glaring at Batman. "Him and his stupid desire to play hero, his obsession with his own brand of justice. Why do you work with a vigilante lunatic, Commissioner? And how many people like Jack must die before you reign him in?"

"Dr. Quinzel, you're under arrest for aiding and abetting a murderer," retorted Gordon. "In case you didn't know, you have the right to remain silent. Take the body to the morgue," he said, turning to his officer, who saluted. "And take her to GCPD," he said, nodding at Harley. "We have a few questions for you, Dr. Quinzel."

"I'll come quietly," murmured Harley, as a man approached her with handcuffs. "But I want you to know, Batman, that you're a dead man," she murmured. "I should have let J kill you, and I won't ever rest until I see vengeance for his death. Which means you dead alongside him."

"It won't bring him back," retorted Batman. "Believe me, I know…vengeance doesn't make anyone feel better. Only justice can do that."

"So letting J fall like you think he let the Graysons fall was justice to you, was it?" asked Harley. "You're judge, jury, and executioner, are you? Pretty pathetic idea of justice you've got," she said, as she was escorted into the waiting police car.

Jack's body was removed from the vat, covered with a sheet, and carried into a waiting van. From there, it was taken to the city morgue, where the two medical examiners on duty were tasked with doing a post-mortem.

"Jesus, I hate clowns," muttered one, as he removed the sheet to reveal Jack's body, completely and unnaturally white, his hair dyed bright green, and a huge, red smile on his face. He shuddered. "Clean that makeup offa him, will you?" he asked, turning to his assistant. "That death smile with the clown look just creeps me the hell out."

"It's just makeup, Kevin," retorted his assistant, reaching for a sponge. "It washes right off. Though I'm with you – I dunno why anyone would want to look like a clown even temporarily. They're not scary – they're just dumb."

"Well, I saw a lotta horror movies at a young age," retorted Kevin. "Blame my parents for not supervising me enough and giving me a lifelong phobia. Never thought I'd run into a clown working in a morgue, though – I don't think most clowns die in character."

His assistant frowned as he ran the sponge repeatedly over Jack's face and flesh. "Kevin…I don't think it comes off," he murmured.

"What are you talking about?" demanded Kevin, seizing the sponge from his assistant. "It's obviously professional stage makeup or something – just put some elbow grease into it…"

He trailed off when his increased scrubbing didn't even make the makeup run. "What…the hell is up with that?" he gasped. "This guy's skin, it's…like it's permanently dyed…like a clown."

He shuddered again. "Some kinda sick joke…that's what it is…what on earth happened to this guy?"

"I guess we're gonna find out," said his assistant, picking up the scalpel. "Something in those chemicals must have…reacted with his flesh somehow, I guess…though I've never seen or heard about anything like that in my life."

"Me neither," agreed Kevin. He forced a smile. "Hey, maybe this will result in some amazing scientific discovery. How to…turn a man permanently into a clown. That valuable secret will obviously make us rich and famous."

"You're not funny, Kev," retorted his assistant, bringing the scalpel down to Jack's chest. He inserted the blade just under the heart, and prepared to slide it down…

And that's when the clown woke up.

His green eyes snapped open, just as his white hand seized the assistant's wrist, halting it in its tracks. Both doctors froze in shock and horror as the clown looked around with his wild eyes, and then smiled at them.

"Well, it ain't every day I wake up to my own autopsy!" he exclaimed. "Talk about your rude awakenings!" he chuckled. The chuckle continued, and turned into a gleeful, hysterical cackle, which echoed around the room.

"How…how are you alive?" gasped the assistant, stunned. "You didn't have a pulse, you weren't breathing…you were dead!"

"Well, not even death can keep a good man down!" chuckled the clown. "Especially not a showman! The show must go on, you know, and the Joker was never one to run out on a captive audience! So I guess that explains it, huh?"

"It's a…miracle of medical science," gasped Kevin. "I can't explain it…whatever was in those chemicals must have…done something…preserved brain activity or something…"

"Now, don't go spoiling the joke by explaining it!" chuckled the clown. "That's typical of you brainy, intellectual types, trying to ruin comedy by analyzing it. Never been a fan of long explanations myself – short, pithy punchlines, that's my style. And speaking of punchlines…"

His fist collided with the assistant's face, cracking his nose. "That's what you get for trying to cut me open, you jerk!" he exclaimed. "Ah, slapstick comedy – always my favorite form by far," he sighed, as he grabbed the assistant by the back of the head and slammed his face into the metal slab. "Never fails to make the audience bust a gut!" he chuckled, picking up a surgical knife and plunging it into the assistant's stomach.

Kevin raced to the door to try to escape and call for help, but he was foiled on both counts by the clown seizing the dissecting knife and throwing it at him. It buried itself in his back, and Kevin fell to the ground, gasping.

"Always wanted to add a knife-throwing bit to my act," chuckled the clown, taking the scalpel from the deceased assistant and standing up. "Mr. Haly said it was too dangerous, which is kinda hilarious when you think about how he insisted on no safety net for the Graysons. But different strokes for different folks, I guess," he said, shrugging. "He trusted them to be safe, and he didn't trust me. Guess the joke was on him in the end, though, huh?" he giggled, bending down so he was eye-level with Kevin.

"Why…" gasped Kevin.

"Oh, it's nothing personal, Doc," interrupted the clown. "It's just comedy. And me, I'll do anything for a laugh. I just hate to see gloomy, frowning, miserable faces – people need to learn to take a joke. And speaking of jokes, let me tell you one," he said, seizing Kevin by the collar and hoisting him up. "I got knocked into a vat of toxic chemicals by a guy in a bat costume!" he chuckled. "Ain't that a kick in the head? A guy…in a bat costume!"

He burst into hysterical laughter. "And…and it gets funnier," he said, trying to catch his breath between laughs. "I coulda killed him before he did that to me, y'see, but I didn't…because…because I didn't wanna be a murderer anymore!"

He giggled uncontrollably. "Now that's funny, right? I don't kill this guy so I can magically transform myself into a better person…and then he does that for me! I suppose I should thank him, really – let him know how much I appreciate what he did. He made me the Joker – the funniest, happiest guy on the planet! The guy who puts a smile on your face whether you want it or not! And speaking of smiles," he said, reaching for the scalpel and bringing it to Kevin's face.

He suddenly stabbed it into Kevin's skull, killing him instantly. "Made you look!" chuckled the Joker. "But of course, you're gonna get a smile, and so is your friend – gotta leave my calling card, after all. People need to know that the Joker's back in town!"

He giggled to himself as he carved a smile onto Kevin's lifeless face. "There! Now doesn't that look much nicer!" he said. "And a killer punchline, if I do say so myself."

He chuckled. "Get it, Doc?" he said, nudging him. "Killer punchline!"

He began laughing hysterically, blood dripping off him. "Oh, yes sir, from now on, life is gonna be fun, fun, fun!"


	23. Chapter 23

Bruce Wayne returned home after giving his statement as Batman to the police. He changed out of his costume with a heavy sigh – Napier was dead, so he supposed justice had been done, but he was hugely uncomfortable by the fact that he had basically killed him. Especially as that had never been his intention – he had just wanted to prevent him escaping justice.

But it was just, in a way, he thought, as he changed into his robe. Napier had been happy to let the Graysons fall to their deaths, and he had fallen to his. Maybe it had all worked out for the best, maybe the universe had somehow dispensed justice on him. Nevertheless, Bruce didn't like having this guilt on his conscience.

He headed upstairs with a sigh, heading back through the clock that hid the secret entrance to the Batcave. He was shocked to see, upon entering the library, Dick sitting in a chair by the fire, staring at him leaving the clock in shock.

"Dick!" he exclaimed. "I thought…you'd be asleep by now…"

"I…couldn't sleep," stammered Dick. "How was the party?"

"Good," said Bruce, hastily. "I just…uh…came through this secret passageway to the…uh…garage. Changed outta my tux in the car – they're so uncomfortable, I can't stand to wear them a moment longer than necessary."

He hoped Dick bought the excuse – he nodded slowly anyway. "Anyway, you should try to get some sleep," said Bruce, coming over to him. "I know it's difficult. But you're not doing yourself any favors just sitting in the dark like this."

"I'll just be lying in the dark upstairs if I try to sleep," murmured Dick. "But I won't. I'll just keep seeing it in the shadows, like a repeating movie in my head. I can't stop seeing it in my head. Seeing them…falling…"

"Dick, I know it's hard, but you can't dwell on it," said Bruce, kneeling down and placing his hands on his shoulders. "If you keep thinking about it, you'll…go crazy. You have to block it out somehow, focus on something else, and not let it in…"

"I can't help it," whispered Dick, tears in his eyes. "I can't think about anything else."

"Or maybe…you just don't have anything else to think about," said Bruce, slowly. "You can't distract yourself, so you need to find a distraction. That's what I did."

"What distraction did you find?" asked Dick.

"Well…it's a bit late for this conversation tonight," said Bruce, slowly. He wasn't entirely sure he wanted Dick to know about Batman – he wanted as few people as possible to know, for their own safety. And while Dick might be eager to join him in his crusade against crime, Bruce wasn't sure he wanted to give him that option yet, especially since he had already taken care of one of the men who killed his parents. He wondered if he should tell Dick that the Joker was dead, but spreading that information around before anyone else knew about it wouldn't be the smartest thing to do in terms of preserving his secret identity. He didn't need Dick getting even more suspicious.

"We'll talk more tomorrow," Bruce said, clapping him on the shoulder. "I'm exhausted from that party, so I'm heading to bed. You should do the same."

Dick sighed heavily, but obeyed. He climbed the stairs and went down the dark hall, opening the door to his room. He lay down on the bed, sighing again as he stared into the darkness and tried not to think about his parents.

"Hey, sad clown, turn that frown around," said a voice from the shadows.

Dick sat up suddenly with a cry, flicking on his bedside lamp. He was horrified to see a man sitting on a chair opposite his bed, staring at him with a huge smile on his face. A very familiar man with a clown face.

"You look like you could use some cheering up," said the Joker, his smile widening. "Well, that's what clowns do best!"

Dick darted toward the door, screaming for Bruce, but he was silenced instantly as the Joker clapped a hand over his mouth, wrapping his arm tightly around his throat.

"Really? That's how you respond when you see me, the guy you think murdered your parents?" chuckled Joker. "You run away screaming for help? I thought you'd be less of a coward, but I can see you're just like your old man after all, dull and jealous and crying to shrinks for help instead of confronting his problems like a man. It's no wonder your Mommy preferred me."

Dick tried to respond, but the Joker's grip only tightened, and he had enough trouble just trying to breathe. "And who's your Daddy now, kid?" continued Joker. "Some spoiled, selfish billionaire with more money than sense? Talk about out of the frying pan and into the fire!" he giggled. "Your Mommy wanted it to be me, did you know that?" he whispered in his ear. "She wanted to leave your Daddy and marry me, so I would be your stepfather. A clown like me, and she thought I'd be a good father figure for you!" He burst out laughing. "God, she really was an idiot, wasn't she? Probably better off dead, before she could pass that stupidity on. Although I guess it's sorta too late for that, huh?" he said, grinning at Dick.

Joker released his throat suddenly, and Dick fell to the ground, gasping for air. "Well, if I couldn't save her, at least I can respect her wishes now," said Joker, leaning over him and smiling. "I'm gonna look after you now, kid. I'm gonna teach you how to be a man. A real man, not the sissy kinda man you've been used to having as a father. A real man stands up for himself. He doesn't depend on other people, like shrinks or parents or trust fund billionaires. If you don't stand up for yourself, you'll be stuck following some loser around forever, and that's no way to live, is it? You were in the shadow of the Flying Graysons, and now you're in the shadow of Bruce Wayne. I'm gonna save you from that, kid. I'm gonna teach you how to stand up for yourself. And the first lesson I'm gonna teach you is how real men settle their problems."

He stood up, spreading his hands. "Hit me," he said.

Dick just stared at him. "Hit me," repeated Joker, smiling at him. "I just choked you, I insulted your parents, hell, you think I killed 'em. Surely I deserve a little pain for that. So hit me."

"I…I don't want to fight you," gasped Dick. "I want the police to find you, to arrest you…so you can face justice…"

"So you want the cops to do your dirty work for you, is that it?" chuckled Joker. "You want me dead, but you don't wanna get your hands dirty doing it yourself? No, you leave it to other people, to the law, because you're too afraid to do it yourself. That's typical of a coward. Don't have the guts to do what's right, so you leave that to other people, so you don't have to live with the guilt of taking a life. Well, I ain't gonna die so easily, kid – tonight's taught me that, if nothing else. If you want me dead, you're gonna have to do it yourself."

He smiled at him. "And you ain't got the guts," he murmured, leaning over him. "Do you, little boy? You think I deliberately sent your parents to their deaths. You think I'm a monster, but you don't have the courage to kill the monster, to avenge your parents. They'd be ashamed of a little weasel like you."

With a roar, Dick raised his fist and struck the Joker full in the face. Joker barely flinched, but his smile grew even broader as blood trickled from his nose. "Good," he whispered. "Not bad for a beginner. Maybe there's hope for you yet. Only one way to find out, though."

Dick was seized around the throat again. He choked and gasped, but the Joker's grip only tightened, and black spots began to swim in front of Dick's eyes. The last thing he heard before he fell unconscious was the Joker's mocking laugh, and the words, "Don't worry, Dickie. You'll be with your parents again soon."


	24. Chapter 24

"Has Dick come down for breakfast yet, Alfred?" asked Bruce, as he entered the dining room the next morning.

"No, sir," said Alfred. "I presume he was up late last night. It seems everyone is in this household, except me."

"He was awake when I got back," said Bruce, pulling out his chair as Alfred poured his coffee. "He saw me come out of the Batcave, but I told him it was just a secret passageway to the garage. I hope he believed that. I don't want Dick to know about Batman if he doesn't have to. The kid's got enough to deal with without finding out that his new guardian is a vigilante crime-fighter."

He sighed as he picked up the newspaper. "Anyway, through a series of accidental and unforeseen events, the Joker won't be a problem anymore. He's dead…"

Bruce trailed off as saw the pictures on the front page, which proclaimed the headline: _Horrific Murders in Morgue – Mutilated Corpses With Smiling Faces –Missing Body of Criminal Alias "Joker."_

Bruce scanned the story hastily, and his heart stopped when he read that the Joker's body had disappeared. "Someone must have…stolen it," he stammered. "Maybe…maybe Dr. Quinzel…but she's locked up…but there's no way he could have…"

He stood up suddenly. "Dick can't see this, Alfred," he said, handing the paper back to him. "I'm going to bring him some breakfast before he turns on the TV in his room and sees the news somehow."

Bruce headed upstairs with a tray, and knocked on his adopted son's door. "Dick?" he called. "Are you awake?"

There was no answer, and Bruce gently pushed the door open. "I brought you breakfast…" he began, but froze when he saw the empty room in front of him. The bed was tidied and made, and for a moment, Bruce was afraid that Dick had run away from home, especially when he saw the note on the pillow. But the note wasn't from Dick, he realized with a sinking heart as he read it.

 _Brucie,_

 _Don't worry about Dick. He's under my care now, just like his Mommy wanted, and he's never been happier! But if you want to see him alive again without a smile carved permanently onto his face, you need to do something for me. I have a score to settle with a certain Batman – take this note to the police so they can get in touch with him. I know they can – I know they're all in cahoots. They need to tell Batman to come to Haly's Circus tonight. Alone, except for Dr. Quinzel. I want her brought with him to exchange for the brat. If you don't obey me, the last Flying Grayson is gonna suffer the same fate as his parents. I'll push the fledgling bird outta the nest, but I don't think he's gonna spread his wings and fly, do you? Still, it's what a responsible parent would do. And you know all about responsible parenting, don't you, Brucie? You don't want to be irresponsible, like your parents, and have someone close to you die again, do you? So toddle off to the GCPD, and pray that Batman is man enough to confront me, or Dick and his parents are gonna have a family reunion very soon._

 _Love and Kisses,_

 _The Joker_

Bruce just stared at the note. "Alfred!" he shouted.

"What is it, sir?" asked Alfred, hurrying into the room. "Where's Master Dick?" he asked, looking around.

Bruce handed him the note. "He's taken him, and it's all my fault! He wants revenge against Batman for what he did to him!"

"What did you do to him, sir?" asked Alfred.

"It…it was an accident," stammered Bruce. "I was just trying to make sure he couldn't escape…but he fell…into some chemicals. I thought he was dead – everyone thought he was dead! But he's not, and he has Dick, and he's clearly unstable, and…oh God, Alfred, what if something happens to him?! I can't lose someone close to me again! I just can't!"

Alfred lay his hand on his shoulder. "You should do what he says, sir. Take the note to the police, fetch Dr. Quinzel, and then meet him at the circus dressed as Batman. He's just a common criminal, Master Bruce, like all the others. Surely Batman can subdue him before Master Dick comes to any harm?"

Bruce nodded slowly. "You're right, Alfred. He is just a common criminal. And Batman's taken care of hundreds of those. This won't be any different…"

"Except you must be very careful, sir," said Alfred, sternly. "You have a lot more to lose than usual. You have two lives at stake, so whatever his game is, don't play it. Just get Master Dick and bring him home safely. If that means letting the Joker escape, so be it."

"Yes, that was…my mistake last time," agreed Bruce. "I want him to face justice, but not at the price of Dick's life. I'll do…whatever this Joker wants in exchange for that."

He sighed heavily. "Can you take this to the police station for me?" he asked, holding out the note. "Tell them I was too upset to come in person. I'll get changed and appear when they light the Batsignal. Then I'll take Dr. Quinzel with me to confront the Joker at the circus."

"Do you think he's holding the other circus performers hostage?" asked Alfred.

"I hope he's done that rather than just killed them," retorted Bruce. "But I wouldn't put anything past a man who murdered the Graysons like that. He probably didn't have any good feeling toward the rest of his fellow performers either. But if they're still alive, I'll save them too."

"Why does he want Dr. Quinzel, sir?" asked Alfred, scanning the note.

"She says she loves him," retorted Bruce. "If a monster who orchestrated the death of his last girlfriend can love, maybe he feels the same about her. Or maybe he just enjoys having a fan around to stroke his ego. But he'll probably kill her one day too, if he's not brought to justice. It's obviously a pattern of his."

"And Dr. Quinzel isn't afraid of that?" asked Alfred, puzzled. "She's a psychiatrist – surely she can recognize a behavioral pattern when she sees it?"

"If she thinks she's in love with him, maybe she's not thinking straight," said Bruce. "It's like a temporary kind of insanity – I guess it has to be, in her case."

"Well, quite," agreed Alfred. "That poor woman, to believe herself in love with a brute like that. I do hope she can get the help she so clearly needs before it's too late."

"Me too," agreed Bruce. "But Dick's the priority. He's an innocent child, and I dread to think what being kidnapped by his parents's murderer has done to him. If I can get to him before it's too late, I can hopefully save his mind, as well as his life."

"Godspeed, sir," said Alfred, as Bruce hurried off to the Batcave.


	25. Chapter 25

"Wakey, wakey!" said a familiar voice, and Dick slowly opened his eyes, his vision blurry and unfocused. The hand slapping him suddenly across the face didn't help either.

"I said wakey, wakey!" snapped the Joker, slapping Dick again. "Lazy kid, but I guess being adopted by a lazy, rich parasite has to rub off on you a little. Hope you haven't forgotten all your old, working class roots, though!" he chuckled. "You're gonna be reminded of 'em tonight!"

Dick looked around to see that he was tied and gagged on the platform on top of the high-wire. Across from him was the trapeze, where his parents had fallen to their deaths. And in front of him stood the Joker, beaming down at him with his horrible smile.

"I've got some fun surprises in store tonight!" giggled Joker. "Not just for you, but for our entire happy little circus family! Because that's what we are, isn't it? One great, big, happy, loving, accepting family. A family who accuses its members of murder, in your case," he chuckled. "And in Mr. Haly's. I guess it's all good being a family until someone doesn't conform, and then it's just hellish. People judging you and accusing you all the time, people assuming the worst about you because you're the only freak who doesn't fit in. It's enough to drive anyone crazy!" he giggled. "I'm not just anyone, of course," he added. "I'm the Joker, and frankly, I've always been too good for this particular family. I'm the one the audiences pay to see here, not you and your little trapeze tricks, not Leo and his stupid animals, and definitely not Mr. Haly, whose sense of showmanship would embarrass a high school drama club. A man who puts his circus's reputation and profits over the safety of his performers, or why wouldn't he have just canceled the damn Flying Graysons act when I told him to? But of course, that was all my fault – this adorable, close-knit little family didn't trust me. This adorable, close-knit little family thought I couldn't possibly be telling the truth, a creep like me, and because of their hatred of me, your parents are dead. It was never my fault, kid, don't you see? It was your whole happy family's fault!" he shouted, gesturing around.

Dick looked down to see his fellow circus performers in a similar situation to him – tied up along the edge of the ring. "I'd say they're all much happier now, wouldn't you?" asked Joker, and Dick was horrified to see that they all had smiles painted on their faces. He grew even more horrified when he saw that there also appeared to be targets painted on them.

"That's for a fun, new addition to my act that I'm putting in for one night only!" chuckled Joker, noticing Dick's confusion. "Something Mr. Haly would never let me do – knife-throwing!" he exclaimed, unrolling a long set of knives. "From fifty feet up! True, my aim won't be spectacular from this high up, and I'll probably miss the bullseyes, but who's to say I won't hit some other fun part of the body, huh?" he chuckled. "That's the joy of the act – seeing where exactly the knives will land! I'm hoping in someplace not necessarily lethal, but enough to permanently injure or maim. It'll be a nice surprise!" he said, glancing at his watch.

"And speaking of surprises, looks like your useless guardian failed to follow my orders," he sighed. "I left a very clear note as to what he was supposed to do if he wanted to see you alive again, but if he failed to obey me, it's nobody's fault but his that you're dying. Oh well," he sighed, dragging Dick over to the edge of the platform. "We'll give it five more minutes, and I'll practice my knife-throwing while we're waiting. Think I can hit Leo's bullseye from here?" he asked, picking up a knife. He aimed, and then threw it, and Dick heard a scream. "Nope, just his actual eye," commented the Joker. "Well, might as well try to even it out by hitting the other one…"

"Put down the knife!" shouted a voice from below, and Dick looked down to see Batman striding into the big top. "I'm here, and I've got what you wanted!" he snapped, dragging Dr. Quinzel after him in handcuffs.

"Only a monster like you would drag me back here after what happened!" shouted Dr. Quinzel, struggling against him. "Do you just want to twist the knife in some more or…"

She suddenly noticed the Joker and trailed off, staring up at him in disbelief. "J…J?" she stammered. "N…no, it can't be…you fell…this is some horrible trick of yours!" she snapped, rounding on Batman.

"It's no trick, sweets!" chuckled Joker. "I'm back!"

"How…how is that possible?" stammered Harley.

"I don't know, but it's some joke on this moron, huh?" said Joker, gesturing at Batman. "He thought because of his heroics, the Graysons' murderer was gone for good! When in reality, I'm just getting started! Not that I was ever the Graysons' murderer – at least, not yet," he added with a grin, smiling at Dick. "The night's still young!"

"I've brought Dr. Quinzel, as you requested," snapped Batman. "Now let Dick go."

"Now where would be the fun in that, Batsy?" chuckled Joker. "You don't give the punchline before the show even begins – that's bad showmanship. Even Mr. Haly could tell you that," he said, nodding at the circus's leader, who was tied up and painted like the rest of the circus. "And I've got a whole night's worth of entertainment planned for you, finishing with the last Flying Grayson doing what he does best. You're gonna see an original, one-of-a-kind Joker show, joined by his lovely assistant, Harley Quinn. So take those handcuffs off her and let her come up here."

"Not until you send down Dick!" snapped Batman.

"Ok, I'll do that," said Joker, grabbing Dick by the throat and holding him over the edge of the platform. "Or did you want him alive?" he chuckled. "If so, I'd do exactly what I say."

Joker's tone was light, but there was some underlying menace in his voice, and as much as Batman hated obeying him, he reluctantly uncuffed Harley, who carefully climbed up the ladder to the platform to join the Joker.

"It…it _is_ you," she stammered, when she reached the top and saw him. "I…don't believe it…I…"

Joker seized her around the waist and gave her a passionate kiss. "Believe it now?" he chuckled, when he drew away.

Harley said nothing, but sobbed in relief, throwing herself into his arms and holding him tightly. "I thought I'd lost you," she whispered, through her tears. "But you're alive, and you're real, and you're…oh my God, it's a miracle!"

"Just one catch now, sweets – you kinda got no choice about liking the clown makeup!" chuckled Joker. "It's permanent! But I hope you won't have any objection to being turned on by a clown."

"Nah uh," she giggled. "Y'know from the moment I met him with his pants down, I've always found the Joker completely irresistible."

They kissed again, and Dick fought to speak through his gag. "Is that really necessary for Dick?" asked Harley, glancing at him.

"Well, I've never found his conversation to be very enlightening," said Joker. "But then it usually comprises of insults toward me, and you know what they say – if you can't say anything nice, don't say anything at all. So I decided not to let him say anything at all."

Harley sighed, and then knelt down and removed Dick's gag. "Are you ok, Dick?" she asked, concerned.

"Dr. Quinzel, you can't trust him!" gasped Dick. "You can't make the same mistake my mother did! She died for it! He killed her!"

"No, Dick, he didn't," said Harley, gently. "He didn't murder your parents…"

"He did!" shouted Dick. "I know he did! That's just what a guy like him would do! He's a monster!"

"Oh, you ain't seen a monster yet, kid," chuckled Joker. "But you will! See, when people already think the worst of you, you begin to wonder, after a near death experience such as I had, why anyone would bother proving them wrong? You try to do a good deed in this world, like trying to stop a murder, or turning the guy in who actually murdered people, and how does the world reward you? It sends a lunatic in a bat costume to knock you into a vat of dangerous chemicals. I guess doing the right thing doesn't mean that everything works out ok. Fortunately for me, no long-term damage was done, but you don't have to be the World's Greatest Detective to see that no good deed goes unpunished, now do you? So why would anyone do good deeds, when bad deeds are so much more…fun?"

He threw another knife. Batman dived to catch it, but he was too late, and it buried itself in Mr. Haly's hand. He screamed in pain, and Batman grew furious. "Last chance!" he roared, glaring up at Joker. "Let Dick go, or I'll make you!"

"No, you won't," retorted Joker. "You are going to stay down there and watch my act, or my dear little Harley Quinn is going to cut the boy's throat," he said, handing her a knife.

"Dr. Quinzel, you wouldn't do that," said Batman, firmly. "Not to a child, the child of your patients…"

"She would," interrupted Dick, glaring at her. "He's twisted her and corrupted her, just like he did to my mother. Because that's what he does – he destroys people. He gets inside their heads, and he ruins them. He turns them into bad people just like he is."

"Dick, I'm really sorry to hear how you're so resolutely against him," sighed Harley. She glared down at Batman. "But please believe there is nothing I wouldn't do to protect my puddin' from you. Nothing," she repeated, placing the knife against Dick's throat.

"Puddin'? I like it!" chuckled Joker. "And I like a dame with a homicidal streak! She's got some crazy in her, and she'll get even more once we get home!" he chuckled, spanking Harley playfully. "That was the problem with your mother, kid," he added, turning to Dick. "Oh, she was crazy, make no mistake about it, but she was kinda pathetic crazy. All desperate and boring and threatening to kill herself rather than return to her depressing life with her stupid husband and kid. She obviously didn't realize that killing herself wouldn't have been any fun. But killing other people? That's hysterical!"

He giggled, glancing down at Mr. Haly. "Now let me show you what a real showman looks like!" he exclaimed, raising his hands and addressing the big top. "Without further ado, I present to you, ladies and gentlemen, your new and improved Joker!"

Several torches suddenly lit around the ring as the Joker waved his hand, and Batman looked around to see just how many hostages there were. His hands tightened into fists as he resolved to save them all.

"For my first trick, I'm going to need a volunteer from the audience," said Joker. "You, the one with the ears," he said, pointing at Batman. "What's your name, sir?"

"Batman," growled Batman.

"I admire you for being able to say that with a straight face, sir," said Joker, grinning. "Now, Batman, I've got a little challenge for you," he said, holding up a set of knives. "I'm gonna throw these randomly at these hostages here," he said, gesturing around. "And you're going to try to stop them before they can hit them. Ready? Get set? Go!"

Batman leaped forward as the Joker started throwing knives, and he did his best to block or deflect them. For a little while, this appeared to be working. And then the Joker started throwing them randomly, two or three at a time, and twirling around so that they spread in all directions. Batman struggled to keep up, unable to leap from one side of the ring to the other. He cringed as he heard screams from the people he wasn't able to protect.

And suddenly the throwing stopped. "Now not only was that amusing and entertaining, it was also a lesson," said Joker, grinning down at Batman. "I'm a clown. And all the great clowns from Shakespeare turn out to be the wisest characters of all. So let me give you a little wisdom. I don't know you well, Batman, but I do know you think of yourself as some sort of heroic savior, taking down the criminal and the corrupt, a hero battling the forces of evil. But as you've seen, there's only so much one man can do single-handedly," he said, gesturing around. "Sure, you can stand up against one or two threats, but when the threats increase? When chaos becomes random and uncontrolled? Well, not even self-styled heroes can control that."

He grinned. "Pretty good punchline, huh?" he chuckled. "Get the point? Get it?" he said, holding up a knife. "Point?"

He laughed hysterically. Batman glared at him, and snapped, "Just get on with your stupid show so I can free Dick and these hostages!"

"Ok, I will," said Joker. "Don't know how many hostages you're gonna have left to save though, after my next trick," he said, heading over to a rope. He pulled this slowly, and Batman heard a creaking sound coming from somewhere. "See, Harley told me she was always suspicious of trusting wild animals," said Joker. "Said you could never be sure they were completely tame. And she's right – I mean, when a wild animal has been starved, even the tamest ones get a little crazy at the smell of fresh meat. And unfortunately for Leo's lions, I've been starving them since last night, and twenty-four hours is a long time without food for an animal brought up in captivity. But fortunately for them, they got a whole ring of meat just tied up and waiting!"

Batman stared in horror as several pairs of yellow eyes emerged from the shadows of the big top, and he heard the hungry growls of a wild cat approaching its prey.

He seized a knife, and began cutting the ropes of the hostages. "Go, run!" he snapped, and then headed over to the next one. At that moment, a lion pounced at the other end of the ring, mauling one of the performers. Batman hurried over, but was snapped at by another lion, who jumped at him. Batman slashed at the animal with his knife, trying to hold it off, while trying to rescue as many hostages as he could.

Joker watched the fight with a bored expression. "Not really an animal guy," he sighed, turning to Dick. "Well, except for little birdies, naturally," he said, smiling at him. "You ready for your big moment, kid?" he asked, cutting his ropes suddenly. "Here it is."

Joker gestured down at the carnage as the lions attacked the circus performers, despite Batman's best efforts to prevent it. "Your little family is being killed, just like your parents were," he murmured. "You think I'm behind both. So what are you gonna do to me?" he asked, placing a knife in Dick's hand suddenly.

"J…what are you…" began Harley, concerned.

"It's ok, sweets, trust me," he said, smiling at Dick. "This kid ain't got the guts. Even though he can hear the screams of his little family, the same way he heard the screams of his parents falling to their deaths. And he still ain't got the guts to kill the guy who killed his family. You might be a little birdie, but you're a chicken, ain't ya?"

Dick roared, lifting the knife. "Dick, don't!" cried Harley, trying to intercept him.

"You stay outta this!" shouted Dick, rounding on her and slicing at her with the knife. "I'll kill you if you try to protect him! Scum like him deserves to die!"

"Yes, I do!" chuckled Joker. "You talk big, kid, but you won't do it. You just won't," he said, smiling mockingly at him. "Will you, chicken?"

Batman glanced up at Dick's shout, and saw the situation. He cried, "Dick, don't do it!" before his attention was averted by an attacking lion. "Let the police take care of him!" he shouted. "Or you'll be no better than he is!"

"If you don't do it, kid, you'll never be a man," murmured Joker. "You'll just be a little birdie, living in someone's shadow your whole life, a follower of better, stronger men, if you can't stand up for yourself and your family now. But you can't, can you, kid?"

Dick glared at him, breathing heavily, his hand shaking as he held the knife in front of him. "I won't be a man like you," he hissed at last, tossing the knife away. "But you will face justice for what you've done."

"Yeah? Who's gonna make me, chicken?" chuckled Joker. "You? Don't make me laugh!"

He did laugh, and then suddenly lunged forward, punching Dick in the face. He reeled back, and someone suddenly grabbed his hands, tying them together. "Grand finale time, kid," hissed the Joker, taking his tied wrists from Harley. "Birdie's gonna fly!"

Batman had been trying to herd the lions back away from the hostages, using a cut rope as a whip. It seemed to have the desired effect, and Batman kept snapping the whip in front of him, directing them toward their cage. He slammed the door when they were all inside, and then hurried over to check on the wounded.

"Show's not over yet, Batman!" chuckled the Joker. "One final act to go! And trust me, it's a doozy!"

Batman looked up, and his stomach lurched in horror to see Dick with his wrists tied to the trapeze, hanging in the air with the ground far below him. "We've got the last Flying Grayson doing what he does best!" laughed Joker. "And I've got a question for him. Who murdered your parents, kid?"

"You did!" snapped Dick.

"And who's the greatest clown who ever lived?" asked Joker, smiling at him.

"Not you!" snapped Dick.

Joker clicked his tongue. "Liar, liar," he murmured, striking a match suddenly. "Rope's on fire…"

He raised the match to the trapeze rope, and it burst into flame. "Dick!" shouted Batman, racing up the ladder. Joker suddenly appeared to swallow the lit match, and a second later breathed out a burst of fire, which caught the tent pole, and the tent itself. The big top was completely alight in an instant, and Batman choked on the smoke, struggling to see Dick through it.

He suddenly felt a hand on his shoulder. "I hope you enjoyed the show, Batman," murmured Joker in his ear. "I'm the Joker, and I bid you goodnight. Keep smiling!"

Batman heard his hysterical laugh, and looked to see the Joker and Harley disappearing down the ladder and out of the tent. Batman yearned to go after them, but he didn't have time now. He looked around desperately for Dick, and managed to spy him just as the trapeze rope snapped. Dick screamed, and Batman jumped, catching him in his arms. He launched his grappling hook toward anything, and it caught on one of the tent poles. Batman swung to the ground safely, and then raced out of the burning tent with Dick in his arms.

When they were at a safe distance, Batman glanced back to see the circus tent consuming itself. The remains of the circus surrounded him, gazing at the fiery inferno.

"Is everyone all right?" murmured Batman.

"No," murmured Mr. Haly, clutching his bleeding hand. "People died in there. Members of my family died in there…all thanks to him."

"He will be brought to justice for his crimes, Mr. Haly," said Batman, hugging Dick tightly. "I swear it."

"I should have killed him when I had the chance," murmured Dick.

"No, Dick, you shouldn't have," said Batman. "You did the right thing…"

"Then how come people died?" whispered Dick, gazing up at him with tears in his eyes.

"Because…sometimes not even doing the right thing means everything works out ok," murmured Batman.

"Funny," muttered Dick. "That's exactly what he said."


	26. Chapter 26

"Where are we going?" murmured Dick, as he sat in the passenger seat of the Batmobile later that night.

"Home," replied Batman, staring straight ahead.

"You know where I live?" asked Dick.

"Yes," replied Batman. "You live with Bruce Wayne. Everyone knows where he lives."

He was conflicted – on the one hand, he didn't want to add the burden of his secret identity onto Dick after all he had been through tonight. On the other hand, if this Joker was going to continue to cause mayhem and chaos, he might target Dick again. It would be good if he knew how to defend himself, and Batman knew he could train him, as he had trained himself. Dick could always say no to helping him with crime-fighting, if he didn't want to do that. But it might help Dick if he knew the truth – if he knew how Bruce Wayne had honestly dealt with the pain of his parents' murder. It might comfort him to know that after a horrible trauma, people could still rise as heroes.

He cleared his throat. "Look…after tonight, you've…seen the worst that humanity has to offer," he murmured. "And this Joker guy…he might not stop trying to hurt you."

"So I should have killed him," murmured Dick, looking out the window.

"No," said Batman, firmly. "You should never kill anyone. Taking a life…shouldn't be something that anyone should do."

"Tell that to the Joker," muttered Dick.

"You proved tonight that you're better than him," said Batman. "And surely you don't want to sink to the level of the man who murdered your parents?"

"You wouldn't understand how it feels to have your parents taken from you like that," murmured Dick.

"Yes, I would," said Batman, gently. "My parents were killed by a criminal when I was your age. And for a long time…I felt lost and alone and completely purposeless. But then I…found my purpose. My purpose was to make sure that kind of thing could never happen again, to any innocent child. I failed you, and I'm sorry. But every night I try to do better. Every night I go out and try to save the people of this city from the worst of humanity, so no one will ever have to feel what we feel ever again."

Dick stared at him. "Bruce?" he murmured.

Batman nodded. "So now you know the truth," he said, looking at him. "You and Alfred are the only ones who know. I'm not asking you to join me in what I do, Dick – it's dangerous work, and more than anything, I want you to be safe. But this is what I chose to do with my life when I couldn't distract myself anymore from my parents' murder. I felt I had to make a difference somehow. And maybe it's not perfect, but it's the only way I know how."

Dick said nothing. "The Joker was right about one thing," he murmured at last. "There's only so much you can do on your own. No one person can protect this city from criminals single-handedly. There are just too many of them."

"Maybe," agreed Batman. "But I don't want anyone else to get hurt because of my actions. Especially not a child."

"But you can't do this on your own," said Dick. "The more people there are fighting the bad guys, the fewer people the bad guys can hurt. Right?"

"It's not always that simple, Dick," said Batman. "And as you found out tonight, sometimes it's not only the bad guys who get hurt."

Batman drove into the Batcave, parked the car, and then lead Dick toward the stairs. "We can talk about this more tomorrow," he said. "But right now you need a good night's sleep…"

"I don't feel like sleeping after what I've been through," murmured Dick, looking around the Batcave.

"Ok. What do you feel like doing?" asked Batman.

Dick slowly approached a punching bag hanging from the ceiling. Batman watched as Dick carefully traced a pattern along it – a pattern that looked like a smile.

And then Dick threw his fist against it, hard. "I feel like fighting," he murmured, turning to Batman. "Can you show me how?"

Batman nodded slowly. "Yes. I can."

 **Five Years Later**

"Robin? Are you in position?" asked Batman, speaking into his commlink as he scanned the warehouse below.

"Roger that, Batman," replied the voice of Dick Grayson. "But I don't see the target…"

"He'll be here," said Batman, glancing around carefully. He suddenly heard a thud, and then a cry on the other end of the commlink. "Robin?!" he cried, his heart leaping into his throat.

"Ooops! Birdie Boy seems to have bumped his widdle head on my crowbar!" said a familiar voice.

"Hit him again, puddin', he's still moving!" exclaimed another familiar voice.

"Now Harley, there's no need for excessive force," said the first voice. "I mean, it is fun, but Batman wouldn't want his little friend too damaged. He needs to be kept nice and safe, so my boys can load up this toxin without a certain Bat interfering in the operation. Because if he does, I'm gonna crack open Bird Boy's skull like an egg. Like the egg that Robin laid in a popular song where the Joker got away..."

"Joker, if you dare hurt him…" began Batman, but the Joker suddenly smashed the commlink with his crowbar.

Joker whistled as he held up his own radio. "Come on in, boys!" he said. A moment later, his henchmen entered the warehouse, and began loading crates of Joker toxin onto a waiting truck.

"Harley, be a lamb and give them directions on where to take the truck after it's loaded," said Joker. "Remember, the most complicated way so the Bat can't follow it. But I'm betting he's keeping his undivided attention on me anyhow!" he chuckled, looking at Robin. "We just have that kinda relationship!"

"Anything for you, Mr. J," purred Harley, kissing him and then skipping over to direct the henchmen.

Joker continued to whistle as he tied up Robin, and then smiled to himself as he slapped him across the face. "Wakey, wakey!" he said, beaming.

Robin's eyes fluttered open, saw Joker, and instantly became furious. He struggled madly against his ropes. "Let me go, you sick son of a…"

Joker slammed the crowbar across his face suddenly. "Language!" he said, clicking his tongue. "A boy your age shouldn't know such words! One might question your upbringing – what kind of horrible people must you hang around to pick up words like that? No kind of role model for a young person, that's for sure. But anyone could probably guess that from the bat costume!" he chuckled. "Seriously, people call me crazy, but at least my sidekick's an adult. Over the age of consent, if you get what I'm saying," he chuckled. "Y'know, of legal age for breaking the law. But here you are, some poor kid Batman's brainwashed into becoming a criminal, without being old enough to really know what it is you're doing. He should really be locked up, the sooner the better."

"I know what I'm doing," growled Robin. "I'm going to see you brought to justice for your crimes."

"And what about your crimes, kid?" chuckled Joker. "And your boss's? So far tonight, we've got breaking and entering into private property," he said, gesturing around the warehouse. "And that's nothing compared to the numerous unprovoked assaults you and your boss have subjected me to."

"My crimes are nothing compared to yours," hissed Robin.

"Maybe not, but I ain't a kid," chuckled Joker. "When I was your age, I was playing baseball outside in the fresh air and sunshine, not hanging around costumed lunatics all night to help with dangerous operations to foil criminals. And you know what they say about kids who get a criminal record when they're young. Tell 'em, Harley, you're the shrink," he said, as Harley returned after seeing the henchmen off.

"Juvenile delinquency, if left unchecked, is a gateway into much more serious crimes," said Harley. "Sure, it's a little breaking and entering and assault today, but tomorrow? Who knows what you're gonna end up doing. I'm betting first degree murder."

"I will never murder!" growled Robin. "I will never be like him!" he spat at Joker.

"No, you won't," agreed Joker, shaking his head. "As you can see, I'm a very successful man, with a very profitable criminal career, not to mention the funniest man alive. I've got a beautiful, loyal girlfriend, and a job I enjoy – making people laugh, usually to death! I got a purpose which fulfills me and makes me happy, and I get to spread that happiness to others, which is why I'm always smiling. You'll never have any of that," he murmured, smiling at him. "Because you'll always be a pathetic little birdie, in the shadow of a bat. Won't you, Robin?"

Something about the Joker's choice of words unnerved Robin – he had heard that phrase before, before he was Robin, when Joker kidnapped Dick Grayson at Haly's Circus…did the Joker know who he was?

Robin studied the grinning white face in front of him, but it was inscrutable. Nothing but that horrible smile, those wide, grinning lips, red like blood…and he had seen so much blood in his young life…

Robin shut his eyes to block out the image of his parents falling to their deaths. "Boss, toxin's safe," said a henchman, entering the warehouse suddenly.

"Good," said Joker. "Bring the birdie outside, and we'll be on our way."

The henchman obeyed, picking up Robin and dragging him after a skipping Harley and whistling Joker. They emerged into the drizzly darkness of a typical Gotham night, with a typical bat figure crouched on the roof, studying them carefully.

"How do we make sure the Bat doesn't follow us, boss?" asked the henchman.

"Easy, Roc," said the Joker. "We distract him by making him preoccupy himself with Bird Boy. By making him need urgent medical attention. Plus my parenting philosophy has always been 'spare the rod, spoil the child.' It's time this child learned the meaning of discipline, and that people who commit crimes have to suffer consequences."

He smashed the crowbar across Robin's face again, and then beat him around the head a couple times. "You're fine – just a little concussed," said Joker, patting Robin gently on the shoulder as he fell to the ground, bleeding. "Nothing too serious, but better get him seen to soon, Batsy!" he called.

Robin's vision was blurry as he watched Joker and Harley and the henchman head to the waiting car. "What are all these posters, boss?" asked the henchman, glancing at the faded and ripped papers pasted onto the warehouse walls.

"Old advertisements for stuff, Roc," said the Joker.

"Oooh, look at that one!" said the henchman, pointing. "Haly's Circus! I love circuses! And hey, that clown looks like you, boss!"

"He sure does, doesn't he, Roc?" chuckled Joker. "He's a dead ringer! Coulda been me in another life, for sure."

" _See the incredible, amazing, death-defying Flying Graysons!_ " read the henchman. He frowned. "Never heard of 'em."

"Just some second rate acrobats, Roc," said the Joker. "They died performing their act. Well, all except one – God knows what happened to that useless kid. Suffering through something like that must have messed him up pretty bad though, huh, Harley?"

"Yeah, Mr. J," agreed Harley. "I hope he got the psychological help he needed, but I'm afraid he's probably got some kinda criminal record now."

"Oh, I know he does!" chuckled Joker. "Gee, you could almost feel sorry for the poor kid. First wasting his life as a circus freak, and now a criminal, thinking he's allowed to break the law just because his parents died. As if everyone else needs to suffer just because he suffered, just to placate his own pain. Almost brings a tear to your eye, doesn't it? Well, not my eye, of course – I'm always a happy soul! And wherever he is, I hope Dick Grayson is the same. But somehow, I sincerely doubt it."

Robin heard the Joker's cold chuckle turn into a hysterical laugh before he, Harley, and his henchman entered the car and drove off. A moment later, Batman was with him, checking to make sure his injuries weren't too serious. They weren't, the physical ones anyway. But Dick Grayson knew the mental ones would never entirely go away.

 **The End**


End file.
